Unmasked
by Jocelyn
Summary: AU. During that first pivotal fight in Jotunheim, Loki is hit with a poisoned dart. He collapses in the Observatory as Thor is banished, leaving Asgard without any heir and teetering on the brink of war. Now Frigga and Odin face the consequences of their deception, and still-mortal Thor is running out of time to save his brother's life.
1. Prologue

_Author's Note: This tale is in response to another prompt on the Norsekink Livejournal. To avoid spoilers (for anyone who doesn't want to search it out, anyway), the relevant part as an introduction of this story is as follows:_

_"The events of the Thor movie start off as usual, there's the fight on Jotunheim, they return home, Thor and Odin yell at each other, Loki tries to interrupt but gets growled into silence. But what he was trying to tell Odin was that he's really not feeling well." _

_So begins an AU!_

**Prologue**

How had this happened? How had he lost control so utterly?

It should never have come to this. _That guard should be flogged for taking so long_. Or was it Odin who had delayed? Why had he done that?

Loki's stomach roiled, hot and painful pressure rising up his chest, making him short of breath. His one bare arm tingled… sensation was giving way to a deeper throb as if he'd wrenched it badly fighting. Worse, it was growing, moving up the exposed arm into his neck, up into his head. He was dizzy; his head throbbed as the voices in the Observatory rose.

"Father - "

Odin snarled so furiously that he recoiled. Why such rage? It wasn't Loki who'd provoked this – yet, it was. He'd goaded Thor; he always did. Did their father know how Laufey's men had reached the vault? Had he found out? Did he know what Laufey had told Thor?

They had dismissed him again without a second glance, not even noticing or caring what was troubling Loki. They were shouting at each other with such venom as never before. Odin and his firstborn had like tempers, but not this, never this. It was like a dream, Odin advancing on Thor, who he'd so lauded and approved, tearing the magical badges from his armor, the fine metal and leather falling to pieces without the Allfather's endorsement. Thor looked as dazed as Loki felt – Loki's head felt as if it were filling with hot water – he couldn't _breathe_ properly –

Over Odin's angry tirade came another voice: Heimdall's.

"Allfather!" The Gatekeeper sounded almost… alarmed?

Lost in a rising tide of hot, white light, Loki was only vaguely aware of the dark figure now before him – the grip on his arms nothing compared to the burning throb coursing through his veins. What had happened? What was happening?

Thor's voice… frightened, from somewhere in the distance. "Loki?"

Over Heimdall's shoulder, he spied one blue eye. Now Odin was looking at him. _Now_ he took notice. But Loki could not even speak properly. His famed silver tongue clumsy and swollen, he could only mumble the question foremost on his mind: "'m I cursed?"

Then the hot white fog rose up and swallowed him.

* * *

Thor would have forgotten all about his impending punishment but for Odin's arm blocking him when he tried to rush to Loki's side. For a moment, the horror on his firstborn's face nearly weakened Odin's resolve. But… _No._

Thor had brought this about. He had to suffer the consequences, including the wounds to his friends and his brother. Stripped of his power, he could not shove past his father to reach his fallen brother, and Odin gave him one last glare. His intent dawned on Thor, who cried out, "Wait!"

But Odin hurled him into the Bifrost. Let him learn his lesson, perhaps faster knowing his actions had brought Loki to harm, and forced to wonder what the end result would be. Mjolnir followed, its power sealed with a whispered enchantment, and then Odin turned his attention back to his younger son.

"He was wounded?" Loki hadn't said. Why hadn't he spoken up? The left arm of his armor was gone, the edge frozen and cracked away as Volstagg's had been, but there was no corresponding frost burn on Loki's flesh. Odin knew why, and doubted it would take Heimdall long to work it out (assuming he hadn't before now.)

The Gatekeeper studied Loki's arm. "He said not, but…" He paused, then rested his fingertips on what at first seemed a small bruise, just below the elbow. It was a puncture, the flesh around it discolored – or rather, blending back into what Odin knew to be its natural color.

Odin's blood ran cold. The Aesir might sneer that the Jotnar had no subtlety in war and weaponry, but some of their crafts were all but invisible and no less lethal than the sharpest mace of ice. The generation who'd fought the last war had ample experience with these crafts.

Ironic. Had such a dart struck Thor or any of his friends, they'd have died in minutes. But Odin dared not gamble that the poison would not kill a Jotunn. "I must get him to the healers." He hauled Loki into his arms and carried him out to lift to Sleipnir's back. It took more effort than it should have, to get himself mounted and the boy secure against his chest.

One son banished for his stupidity, the other fallen from a poisoned wound. What an end to this day.

As if the hour were not growing dark enough already, Frigga was waiting when he carried Loki into the healing room. "What happened?! Where's Thor?"

"I'll explain later," Odin grunted and laid Loki down as Eir hurried to examine him. The master healer's eyes narrowed at the dart wound on Loki's arm, and then flashed up at Odin. Of course, she knew Loki was no son of his blood, nor even Aesir, after all the years she'd spent treating his and Thor's injuries. Odin had never spoken of it to her directly and doubted Frigga would have done, but Eir would never have mentioned it unless it truly mattered to healing him.

It did now. "Were he born of Asgard, he would have died instantly," she said quietly. Frigga sucked in her breath and sat down on the edge of the bed. Eir went on, "Jotnar darts are steeped in magic poison. They are meant to kill the enemy swiftly, but I fear he's not immune. The tales we have of earlier days speak of these darts being the favored weapons of assassination between feuding houses."

Frigga felt Loki's arm and face as he shifted restlessly. "He's feverish, but his heart beats strong for now. Perhaps it's not the same poison. Why would the Jotnar strike at Loki with such a rare and lethal dart?"

"Perhaps he wasn't the target." That thought had already occurred to Odin, but it was Eir who gave voice to it. Frigga shut her eyes. Eir looked from the queen to the king, then back again. "I will do all that I can."

Frigga opened her eyes and then stared at Odin. "Now tell me the rest. Where is his brother?"

_To be continued..._

_**Coming This Weekend:**__ Frigga gets bad news, Loki gets worse news, and the consequences of the fight in Jotunheim continue to spread._

_I hope to have updates every few days. __**Please don't forget to review!**___


	2. Chapter 1

**_Author's Note: _**_So many thanks to everyone for the reception to this fic, and please do keep the reviews, questions, and/or comments coming! However, I'm disappointed - nobody caught the unreliable narration in the prologue? I'll give you a hint: oblivious Odin is oblivious! Come on, somebody has to catch it!_

**Chapter One**

_How could you?! _Were it not for the presence of the healers, and Loki's unsettled state, Frigga would have railed at her husband.

Of course, Thor had acted stupidly and arrogantly, with deadly results still unfolding, but banished?! Now, with his brother wounded? Not to mention that as a result, Frigga couldn't rail at him either for putting Loki, his friends, and the rest of Asgard in danger in the first place.

Now the realms faced war again. Odin left to meet with his councilors, leaving Frigga at Loki's side with the healers. Eir administered healing stones and spells, but while the wound improved, it did not close. "What do you know of these Jotunn darts?" Frigga asked. "Have they all been instantly fatal?"

"To the Aesir, yes," Eir replied. "The Vanir and light elves intervened in some of the familial wars in Jotunheim. They may know of the poisons being used within that realm."

Frigga summoned a messenger. "Go to Freyja in Vanaheim. Say to her that I seek the Vanir's knowledge of these Jotunn darts for my stricken son. I will make any gift that the Vanir ask if they will aid me."

Shortly after the boy left, Loki stirred. He flinched and muttered in his sleep, telling her he was in pain. That was bad enough. But when his eyes opened and focused, the first question he asked cut her to the quick. "What am I?"

From the edges of her gaze, she saw Eir ordering the others away and letting herself out. Loki's gaze went from her to his wounded arm, and he tugged the binding away to find the patch of flesh, its blue color spreading ever so slowly.

Odin had forbidden her to speak of it all those years ago... but Loki was no fool. How was this to stay secret now?

War with Jotunheim threatened. To prevent it, delegations from one realm must visit the other, and an accounting made of the wounds and deaths caused by Thor's skirmish. Now again, she longed to have Thor in reach so she could shout at him. So eager for war in which now Loki might be Asgard's first casualty. To lose one or both of her sons in battle was a prospect she'd faced all their lives, the great cliff on which a royal mother dwelled. But this - for no better purpose than a belligerent youth's attempts at swagger... _I just might slap him when he returns. _

It was another ripple into the pond Thor has disturbed with his debacle... the blue flesh on Loki's arm where the glamor was failing. It was now the size of a large bruise, but soon it could not pass as one. As ill and weakened as he was becoming, the look in his eyes was far too knowing as he studied his skin. "It turned blue," he murmured. "My entire arm, when a giant tried to burn me as he did Volstagg." He frowned at the tiny wound from the dart. "Is it a curse?"

Frigga took a deep breath. "It is poison, cursed with magic to be sure." But where most Aesir would quail in dread, Loki looked hopeful, and now Frigga cursed herself. He thought the dart had caused an illusion, a transformation.

_This cannot go on. _By rights she should send for Odin and demand that he explain the situation - but he might still choose to indulge Loki's desperate, fevered fantasy.

No. No more lies. The Allfather had a war to prevent, a truce to broker. Therefore the choice fell to the Allmother. She sighed and put a hand to his cheek, willing herself not to quail at the anguish in his face. "The dart was cursed. What you saw before under the giant's hand was not."

Knowing Odin's will, the prohibition not withdrawn, she was defying him by breaking her silence. _Let him banish me too, then. Leave Loki to suffer alone, or let his father explain his dishonesty while I track Thor down in Midgard for a good slap. _

Her youngest was trembling, his face a mask of rigid calm as he put it together. When he spoke, his voice was almost level. "The casket wasn't the only thing he took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

Frigga shook her head. "He found an infant left in the temple after the battle. You. He feared you'd been abandoned to die in the chaos; you might well have died before long."

Loki pulled away from her, his eyes darting around the room as if to see Odin appear out of the shadows, or some other explanation. "Why?" he demanded. "He was knee deep in Jotunn blood, why would he take me?!"

"You were a baby, Loki!" she exclaimed. "Even at the bloodiest height of war, your father stayed his hand for the sake of the innocent - "

" - well, he's _not_ my father, is he?" her son spat, and she had to look away. "He always has a reason, there's always a purpose. He had some grand plan for me, didn't he? Where is he?" He looked around wildly again. "Can he not be bothered to even tell me himself?!"

She seized his good arm. "Calm yourself! You're in enough danger from this poison without adding to it. He's with his council trying to avert war, but I'll send for him."

Loki's frantic breathing slowed, but Frigga could tell the ashen face and the reddening eyes weren't merely effects of the poison. Perhaps it would be better to give him a few moments alone while she fetched Odin... and she _would_ fetch him, however busy he was. It was true. Their son deserved to hear some part of this from the Allfather's lips.

She stood, but came around the bed to sit closer to him and pressed her lips to his forehead. "You are our son, Loki," she murmured, stroking his hair. "And we your family."

He didn't answer. She could tell he was not convinced. As she rose and left the room, she listened for the telltale hitching of his breath, but he didn't make a sound. Loki always hid so much of what he felt; his father and brother tended to assume that no outward reaction meant all was well. Frigga knew better, and the silence pulled at her heart as painfully as if he'd been sobbing.

* * *

Jotunn. Frost giant. Was this pain in his chest from the poison or from the cursed truth that his mother – _not_ his mother – had whispered, forced into revealing by his treacherous flesh? Was it the poison that made reality seem so fractured like an augured mirror, myriad distorted and ugly reflections in what once had seemed whole? His head was full of voices, some wailing in anguish and grief for the loss of all hopes and prospects, some roaring in rage at the injustice, some laughing maniacally at all the bitter irony. But one muttered low in the cacophony, insidious…

_It all makes sense now. That's the reason… this is why he always favored Thor. No matter how much he claimed to love me, he'd never have a frost giant sitting on the throne of Asgard. No matter how reckless, how vain and arrogant and bull-headed and dull-witted Thor was, he'd always, always have been the heir. No matter how much the Allfather claimed to love me._

_What do I care? Why does it matter – I never wanted a throne! _

A king would have no time for study of magic, no freedom for other pursuits. Asgard's armies would not respect such a commander who wielded seidh better than a sword. Loki even had his doubts as to what the effect would be on the hand that held Gungnir. He could well imagine the sneers… an ergi on Hliðskjálf. No one would accept him. Not even if he had been Aesir.

_And I'm not._ _I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night._

It explained so much.

When Eir and the healers returned, he knew his swimming head and the hot-cold sensation radiating out from his arm weren't merely products of shock and rage. He toyed with roaring at them to leave him alone, but Eir shot him a _look _that suggested he'd only make a fool of himself and be restrained for the bargain. So he bit his tongue and submitted, silent and sullen. Except when they removed the bindings and exposed his arm and the telltale blue skin; he flinched then and shut his eyes.

"Does that hurt?"

He was startled into opening his eyes. The voice was familiar, but not for the healing rooms. "Sigyn?"

Sigyn Dellingsdottir had once been as familiar as a sight at Loki's side as Sif at Thor's. Like Loki, her tastes in childhood entertainment had run to books rather than brawling, and she had excelled in their schooling as he had. Of course, that had made her a target for teasing from Thor and his cronies just as it had Loki. She'd once confided in him that the proper maidenly girls mocked her - as they did Sif - for her disinterest in the womanly arts of spinning, weaving, and sewing. With such a devotion to books, she might have been praised for her wisdom if she talked more often, but she was painfully quiet from girlhood to adulthood. Even around Loki, with whom she'd once been comfortable, she spoke little. Once he'd grown old enough for weapons training and she for tutoring in the ways of womanhood, they'd grown apart. He had seen her in his furtive, disguised visits to the Volur, but it seemed she did not have the talent for seidh either, or at least not sufficient to become known as a volva. At least the Volur had not seemed to mock her.

What must she think now of the boy at whose side she'd spent so many hours, quietly absorbed in their books or in low conversation about their studies? That her one-time friend was no prince of Asgard but a Jotunn imposter?

She certainly was hiding her distaste well. She seemed downright concerned. "Yes, my prince. Are you in pain?"

He was, but what did it matter? He turned away from her and didn't answer. She waited for a few moments, then cautiously resumed her treatment of the arm. The healing spells did ease some of the burning throb, but not all, and he knew now it would not be long before the poison began to spread again. Daring a look at it, he found that the patch of Jotunn blue covered the elbow and several inches of his upper and lower arm. Despite Sigyn's work, it did not retreat as it had before.

Only hours since Jotunheim. How long until it couldn't be hidden under a bandage?

"Who knows?" he heard himself whisper.

"Loki?"

"Has word of this reached the rest of Asgard yet?"

When he looked at her, she was frowning. "That you were grievously wounded is known - but you mean this?" She sounded offended. "Healers do not engage in gossip about their patients. You know that."

The absurd tightness of his throat must have been just another symptom of the poison. "Is it gossip to report a prince is a Jotunn spy?"

He flinched when she put a hand on his brow, searching for fever. Finding it no worse than before, her eyes softened. Sigyn was a lovely maid, with hair of the palest gold, light blue eyes and a sweet, heart-shaped face. She'd had her share of suitors over the years, but most had given up in frustration at her inability (or unwillingness) to flirt.

"Have you been spying since you were toddling, then?" she asked.

That surprised him. She was capable of sarcasm, but it usually passed people over because there was almost no change in her tone or expression. Nor did she often resort to it. Well, why should she not mock him? What was there to do but mock, to understand at last why Loki had been such a poor example of all the virtues of the Aesir? Sigyn might be too sweet to scorn him outright, but that did not mean she was not as shocked and disgusted as any proper child of Asgard would be.

Perhaps it was just as well that Thor was disgraced. If he was restored to Odin's favor, his first act would probably be to smash this imposter's skull with Mjolnir.

"I've been good for nothing since infancy. If only someone had told me what I was, I'd have spared myself the effort!"

"That's not true; do not say that!"

His lips curled as he hissed through his teeth. "Such gentleness, even to a giant's spawn. You've taken the lessons of healing well, Lady Sigyn, just as you take all the rest. Perhaps someday you'll manage to accomplish something that _someone_ will deem worth notice!"

Sigyn flinched and looked away, but the growing pain in his chest robbed Loki of the smugness he would normally feel at watching a well-honed lance strike home. So he glowered at the wall and tried to hide the discomfort from his face as she returned her attention to her spells and stones. But the heat and the white light were returning, rising from his arm up his neck, and it was harder and harder to breathe and... other healers were in the room. Had she called for help?

He drifted in and out of awareness, musing that perhaps the Jotnar's poison would put an end to all these uncomfortable questions and confrontations... and wondering whether he had cause to regret such an end. Perhaps it would be to the benefit of them all if he stopped fighting it.

Then someone was bending over him. "Loki? How long has he been worse?"

"An hour or so, my queen. We're keeping it at bay as best we can, but the poison overcomes our spells. The spread is becoming more rapid - it is nearly to his shoulder."

"By the Norns, what is - "

Who was that? A man? Oh, one of the councilors. A groan escaped him, not of pain so much as mortification. That was all he needed.

"Hush, Ullr." Well, at least it wasn't Bragi. "But see for yourself. He's too ill to take Gungnir now."

That reached him through the haze, and he blinked his eyes into focus. His mother and Ullr - Frigga looked worse than he'd last seen her, still more grim and frustrated. Ullr looked no better. Something was very wrong - or rather, something was more wrong.

He squinted at them. The room was too bright. "What... going on?"

Ullr inclined his head to the queen and moved away. She sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked his hair. "Dearest... your father has fallen into the Odinsleep."

The words seemed to drift in and out of his awareness as he tried to make sense of them. "What?"

"It was unexpected... he'd put it off for some time. We were unprepared, but now with Thor gone and you..."

Of course. Ullr needed to see for himself what had become of Loki. But surely now that Loki's parentage was revealed, Odin's councilors would never stomach putting Gungnir in his hands even if he had been hale. The idea was preposterous. Laughter bubbled out of his throat. What was to be done now? Would the nobles fall to quarreling like in the histories, maybe plunge the realm into civil war? Had the Allfather ever imagined a future where his perfect golden firstborn would not be able to take power?

_"Both of you were born to be kings."_

_Liar, liar! What did you plan for me? Am I merely another trophy of your conquests? If Thor had got himself killed it some campaign, would you have ever allowed me to succeed?_

Of course not.

The healing room seemed to be tilting and swaying like a ship's cabin in rough seas. He clutched the pallet desperately. It was cold. How could he feel cold? He should be immune from it. Why was he shivering? The fog was back, but now it was cold and clammy. It was very unfair that he had learned of his tainted blood only to find that cold was still uncomfortable.

Nothing about this was fair.

Nothing had ever been fair.

As the fog swallowed him again, he thought he heard someone calling his name.

**_To be continued..._**

**_Coming mid-week: _**_Frigga struggles to deal with the growing fallout, Loki's condition deteriorates, and we move to Sif's POV as she and the Warriors Three face their share of the responsibility for the crisis. _

_PLEASE remember to review!_


	3. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: ** Many, many thanks for all the wonderful feedback! Please keep it coming! A note on my backstories and character development: The background/childhood history of Loki, Thor, Sif, and Sigyn is mostly my own invention, as are the identities of Sif and Sigyn's parents. Based on my research (translation: Wikipedia and Google) of Norse myth and the comics, I came up pretty empty on their upbringing, although I know the comic canon has Sif as Heimdall's sister. In this fic, she's not.  
_

_**Credit Where Credit Is Due:**__ To Scyllaya, author of the epic Thor/Avengers space adventure "Bend Around The Wind," who first intrigued me with the character of Frey (Freyr in Norse mythology). Frey is a Vanir, king of Alfheim, and twin brother of Freyja. I don't know what if any role he plays in the Marvel comics, but he's a fascinating figure renowned for his wisdom in the Norse legends. Who better to call upon for some urgent diplomacy?_

**Chapter Two**

If Ullr had not been convinced by the feverish pallor and crazed laughter, Loki's lapse into unconsciousness did the trick. The councilor departed with no further musing on putting Odin's younger son on Hliðskjálf. Frigga tried not to sound accusing as Eir examined Loki. "What is it? Why is this happening?"

The master healer's eyes were far too understanding. "My queen... this will continue to happen. It will grow worse. We have no cure for this poison."

Loki moaned fitfully, and Frigga realized how hard she was squeezing his hand. She let go and stood, pacing around the healers and wishing to roar and throw things. _Like Thor._

_"_My queen?" She found Sigyn at her elbow. "Lady Sif and the Warriors Three are without. They ask to see Loki."

Frigga took a deep breath. "Will he wake soon?" _Will he wake at all?_

But Sigyn nodded. "The healing spells should halt the poison's advance again for a time. Eir expects he will wake then, although... more lapses will follow."

Lapses. Such an innocuous word to encompass pain, fever, delirium. Then death.

She should not leave Loki like this. She should be at her husband's side. She should send to Heimdall for news of Thor in Midgard. She should inquire of the courtiers as to their decision regarding Gungnir. She felt pulled in many directions and forced herself to think. Finally, she murmured, "Call me at once if Loki wakes. And if there is any change with the Allfather."

"At once," the girl promised, and dispatched two apprentice healers to keep watch over Odin. Her quiet efficiency was reassuring.

Frigga found Sif and the Warriors Three in the corridor leading to the healing rooms, watching all the activity. Word of the Allfather's collapse into the Odinsleep and the dilemma now facing the court had left them as stunned and bewildered as she felt. "My queen...it is said that Loki is not fit to serve as regent?" asked Volstagg.

She nodded. "He suffered a poisoned wound in that escapade," she told them, unable to help the rebuke that crept into her voice. The quartet stared at their feet. "He's unconscious and in pain, and Eir expects it will worsen. We now teeter on the brink of war, the Allfather's heir is banished for provoking it, and his second son incapable of taking the throne. Asgard's court must make do with no hand upon Gungnir until Odin awakens or the court agrees on the next successor."

Letting it sink in, she turned to go, but then Hogun dropped to one knee. Frigga blinked, and the warrior met her gaze, his fist over his heart. "If Asgard has no king, then, let us serve the queen. You reproach us justly for our part in bringing this about. Say how you would have me aid you in this hour."

Sif and the other two exchanged quick glances, then followed suit. Frigga sighed. No doubt those in the court who thought to advance themselves at the expense of Odin's house would see this as treachery, but it couldn't be helped.

So she ordered Hogun to the observatory to Heimdall's disposal, which would frustrate him, since he'd be able to do nothing but deliver messages. Fandral to the Allfather's quarters to keep watch, which would be dull and lonely, Volstagg to the council to observe the inevitable debates and quarrels, which would bore and irritate him. Sif she bade attend Loki in the healing room, which she would hate. Let it never be said that Frigga lacked a vindictive streak; she was merely more subtle about it than most men of the court.

Still, to the warriors' credit, they accepted their orders without complaint, and it eased Frigga's mind a little to have their assistance. But before she and Volstagg had even reached the council chamber, Hogun returned on his first errand - escorting the arrivals down the bridge. "My lady, Lord Frey of Vanaheim is come in response to your letter."

Frigga was surprised, but not displeased to see the Vanir lord of Alfheim at Hogun's heels with her letter in his hand. His sister must have sent for him as soon as she heard from Frigga. She couldn't quite help the way she hurried through the formalities of welcoming him, and was grateful when he turned his attention to the subject of her message. "Tell me what occurred in Jotunheim. How did the sons of Odin come to be there?"

She held her peace until they were in a private room. "It was no exercise that reflects well on them. Word has reached you of the disruption of Thor's coronation?" Frey nodded. "My sons and their friends took it into their heads to demand answers of Laufey. Odin managed to keep them all from getting themselves slaughtered, but now Laufey has declared an end to the long truce, and Loki was struck with a poison dart. Eir can find no cure."

Frey's puzzlement did not last long as he considered these facts. The Allfather's councilors would fret and fume that such a shameful tale was being disclosed to a foreign ambassador, even an ally so steadfast and wise as Frey. Frigga cared little; Loki's life was at stake. So she watched as the Vanir lord put together the tale and deciphered the crucial point she'd not voiced: "And Loki still lives?"

"For now."

Frey's eyes went straight through her. "So. Odin preferred the rumors that his youngest was an elfling than a Jotunn?"

A startled laugh escaped her. "What?!"

"With magic like that? Come, Frigga, you're too clever not to guess, and you have as many ears about the realms as your husband. It's long been whispered that Loki is not Odin's blood, or perhaps not yours. Born so soon after Odin had been abroad, and the queen delivered none since?" He didn't mean it to be cruel, only candid, and she appreciated his bluntness. There was no time for delicacy, and she'd heard the speculation on her barren state.

"He's a foundling. As best as Odin and I know, he is entirely Jotunn. Left in the temple after Utgard fell; Odin even suspects he is Laufey's son. His size is no glamor." She toyed with an ornament from the table to keep from wringing her hands. "Have you encountered these Jotnar poisons before? Eir thought they'd been used against their own people in the past."

"They have. I don't suppose you have found the dart?" She shook her head. "That stands to reason; they dissolve once they encounter blood. The dart itself is the curse. They are the tool of assassination and blackmail within the realm. Only their own magicians can prevent the victim's death. How Odin escaped it during the war, I cannot guess. I've long suspected that was the cause of Bor's death." Frey looked around, then mused, "What says the Allfather on this?"

Now her throat tightened, and she could not help the roughness of her voice. "He has fallen into the Odinsleep."

Gray eyes softened to genuine pity. "Ai, timing." Frigga had to laugh, if only to keep back a sob. Frey put a light hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, wise lady. This is a far cry from the celebrations we anticipated. And Thor?"

She took several deep breaths and got herself under control. "Banished. With Loki weakening by the hour, there is none in the line of succession who can take up Gungnir. Who can guess how long it will take Odin's councilors to agree on a choice. I've... I've not decided whether to ask that Thor be called back. Heimdall can retrieve him at any time, but without a king's hand upon Gungnir, his power cannot be restored." She scowled to herself. "I wonder if he should not remain there, if only..."

_If only because it serves him right. _She felt guilty for thinking that way. _Are we to keep him from his brother's side if Loki wants him? Could he ever return after Loki died? _

Not whole, at least. And as angry as she was at Thor, Frigga did not want to think of doing him such a permanent injury. Even if he had provoked war… she could not justify in her heart the idea of denying him the chance to see Loki in… in the end.

To think in such terms felt like rushing headlong towards a cliff's edge.

* * *

_"I fear we'll live to regret this." Well, we did. We did. _Sif wedged herself into a corner of the healing room to keep out of the healers' way. Every glance in her direction seemed reproachful. Well, why should they not reproach her? _Look what we've done. _Some part of her protested weakly that she'd been against this jaunt from the beginning. _It was not enough. Am I a coward that I said so little against it? Look what happened. _

Sif and Loki had never been the best of friends, and were it not for Thor, they would probably not abide each other at all. Now she looked at him, tossing fitfully in his sleep, sweaty-faced and pained, and felt ready to drown in remorse. For Thor loved Loki; none who cared for the eldest Odinson could begin to deny that. As much as Sif herself might often question the younger brother's motives and intentions, bridle at his sly jests and take no amusement in his pranks, in her heart of hearts, she couldn't deny the reverse either. At least on some level.

_"Of course, he's a brat," _Volstagg would say when trying to placate her, usually after she'd fallen victim to another of his tricks. _"But he adores Thor, and Thor him. If we're to be true comrades, we must all put up with his mischief."_

So Sif tolerated Loki for Thor's sake and for no other reason – and always made sure that everyone knew it. Now she cringed in the shadows of the healing room. How very petty she'd been, through these long years and decades of nursing grudges and keeping a careful count of all slights. She who took such pride in service to Asgard, in the mantle of a warrior, as good a shield-sister as any of the sworn shield-brothers… was Sif Bragisdottir no more than a hypocrite, as treacherous and resentful as she accused Loki of being?

As if her thoughts were not dark enough and her conscience not burdened enough already, she happened to meet the eyes of Sigyn over Loki's bed. More memories wriggled to the front of her mind: youths at play, but their game not so innocent as outsiders might think as they stalked their "prey," namely, the pallid girl who was too timid for her own good and had no circle of friends to protect her among the graceful girls or the brawling boys. Sif had been accepted in Thor's company well before it dawned on him that she was a girl, and with Odin and Frigga bearing out her interest in the warrior's craft, Bragi and Idunn could say little against it. But they'd been heard to lament their daughter's lack of proper feminine pursuits, and Sigyn had earned Sif's ire for being named as an example of maidenly modesty.

Only years later had Sif realized that Sigyn herself had no part in Idunn and Bragi's vocal comparison. At the time, especially with her own hair now the wrong color thanks to one of Sigyn's few apparent friends, her parents' remarks had stung viciously and Sif in turn had been vicious towards the object. Thor and his friends had been all too gleeful to participate in the bullying, tripping Sigyn into mud puddles, stealing her books, and ambushing her whenever they could in the guise of "practicing" their combat skills. And she who called herself a warrior had never had the courage to apologize.

Perhaps it was high time she mustered it... although this was hardly the place. Yet when she looked again, less shadowed by her own guilt, she saw no reproach in Sigyn's eyes. Once her spells were complete and Loki dropped into a calmer sleep, Sigyn came to Sif's side. "Are you keeping watch for the queen?"

"It is the least I can do," Sif admitted. "How is he?"

"A little better. Healing stones and spells have some effect."

_But not enough. _The cautious words and grim faces among the healers carried a fearful warning. This was no simple wound, nor even some cruel poison Asgard's healers and Volur could turn their powers to defeat. Even Eir, the greatest of them, seemed apprehensive of the watchers like Sif and the younger nobles. As Sif observed her, Eir straightened from her own ministrations.

"Lady Sif is bid be present by the queen. Let the rest of you go about your business."

Sif waited until the onlookers had gone, then leaned toward Sigyn. "How bad?" she asked quietly.

Sigyn bit her lip and looked to Eir. Their silence was all the answer Sif needed.

_None of this was supposed to happen. _

The hours crept by, and soon even Sif, who had no gift for healing, could discern the pattern in Loki's condition. The hold of the poison or curse, or whatever it was, grew as time passed, and with it, his pain and agitation. The healers applied healing stones, draughts, and spells, and for awhile, his symptoms eased again and he slept. But the poison was fighting back, it seemed. Worse, it was winning.

After dusk, Volstagg came with a message for Eir from the queen, and Sif gladly stepped aside to hear what news he could bring. "Lord Frey has come from Alfheim. He's seen these Jotunn curses before; the only cure requires that we return to Jotunheim."

Sif growled under her breath. "I was afraid of that. So either we attack or we beg. Equally unpalatable choices even if we had certainty of who should decide."

"And there is more unspoken, I can tell. The queen and Lord Frey have not said, but Tyr and some of the other elders who fought in Jotunheim before know something grave." Volstagg looked miserably at Loki. "I fear it means he can't be saved, even if we should obtain this cure by force or mercy."

Sif shook her head. "What of Thor? The queen can't be so cruel as to leave him in Midgard at such a moment."

"Heimdall reports that he is well, if worrying over Loki's fate. But with no king on the throne, even if he should come back, he can't be restored to power."

"But at least he could be here, and see his brother, if..." Sif jerked her thoughts past the end of that sentence. "Surely the Allfather's councilors would desire his opinion even if he cannot sit upon Hliðskjálf."

But Volstagg pulled a face. "Do you think so? I fear we both know what he will say. What he'll demand."

Sif winced. That was... a fair point. Considering Thor's rage over the aborted coronation - with Loki struck down, he wouldn't be seeking answers, but blood. "He... if it would save Loki's life, he would stay his hand."

The words they could hardly bear came out in a whisper from her friend. "What if he can't be saved? What will Thor do then?"

_Hunt them down and slay them all. Destroy indiscriminately for vengeance. _Thor's temper could be hard to contain at the best of times. At a moment such as this, even the calmest of men might lose all sense if grief and rage. _By the Norns, what can we do?_

"I must return," Volstagg murmured, and left her to her dark thoughts.

Some time later, her eyes wandered back to Loki - and she started to find him returning her gaze. She stared for some long moments at fever-bright green eyes, and finally stammered, "L-Loki?"

It was so long before he answered that she wondered if he recognized her. Finally, "Sif? Where's Thor?"

_Damn it. _For all she'd contemplated how distressed Thor must be, trapped and powerless in Midgard, wondering what had become of Loki, it hadn't occurred to her that Loki likewise might not know what had happened to Thor. She cautiously approached him and mustered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Thor is well. He's... had you been told of the Allfather's... decision?"

Loki shook his head, looking bewildered. She'd seen that expression often, usually when he was proclaiming innocence for whatever scheme he'd been caught in. Part of her instinctively bristled at it, but another part felt only further weighted down with guilt. She'd seen enough wounded men to know (usually) when pain and confusion were feigned... this was not. So she made herself sit down at his bedside and explained, "The Allfather ban - sent him to Midgard to... live as a mortal. Heimdall assures us he's safe," she added quickly.

Loki scrubbed at his face with one hand. The other, the one she assumed had been poisoned, was heavily bound up past the shoulder. "She said he was gone," he muttered. "I didn't think he'd really do it. I told him - I told that idiot to send for him, how did we even make it to Jotunheim?! He should be flogged for taking so long; none of this was supposed to happen!"

Sif struggled to navigate the jumbled words and frowned to herself. "You told the guard to send for Odin?"

"His stupidity was going to get us all killed!" She scowled, but Loki abruptly laughed. "Well, it almost did. Just me. Ironic, isn't it?" His grin was a strange hybrid of that devil-may-care smirk he so often threw at her, and some twisted, desperate expression of pain. Between that and the half-laugh, half-sob noises coming from his throat with each words, Sif's insides were twisting. She had the strange experience of being torn between wanting to reach towards him and also to run away from him.

"You're - you won't - die," she mumbled.

He laughed harder. "Oh, poor Sif, forced into bedside service. You're so dreadful at comforting. Why are you the one attending my deathbed? Did you draw lots? You were never a good gambler either."

"I..." _I am here at the queen's orders. _She clamped down on it.

To her relief, Loki didn't press it. Very unlike him; she knew it was a bad sign. He muttered on, and she was unsure whether he was talking to her or to himself, so she said little. The queen would want him to be comforted if possible, so Sif would try. Not that Loki was any more inclined to accept comfort than she was to offer it even in the best of times. She answered his questions and tried to look sympathetic when his mind wandered.

"Where's Thor?"

"I told you, he's in Midgard." She supposed she ought to be more patient with him.

"Yes, I know he's in Midgard, but _where_ in Midgard?" he snapped.

Sif frowned to herself. "I'm not sure," she admitted. Recalling what Volstagg had passed along from Hogun, she mused, "It cannot be anywhere terribly inhospitable. Heimdall reports that he's well and has made some mortal friends."

"Of course, he has," Loki laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it, more intense than Sif had ever heard from him before. "Everyone adores him; no one is capable of thinking him any less than perfect." The sentiment itself wasn't surprising; Sif was well aware that Loki envied Thor. That he would say it so openly, on the other hand, did startle her. She knew the same affliction that brought the sheen of sweat on his face and unnatural brightness to his eyes was the cause.

"He thinks of you as his friend," she said tightly. "First among them." _Whether you deserve it or not. _

She was prepared to hear a scoff in response, but the noise Loki made was... not quite that. _Surely not. It is only his condition. _"Please. I'm a non-entity to Thor unless I forget my _place_. Two steps behind to clean up his messes and do the thinking for him." That part did not surprise her. But Loki went on, tugging at the blanket like a child. "And the talking. Asgard needed a king who didn't just talk with his fists and his damned hammer." Sif gritted her teeth against arguing. "It was just a bit of fun. Supposed to be. Put off his idiotic rule a little longer, and maybe he'd grow a brain in the meantime."

She stiffened. "What?" On the other side of the room, Sigyn turned around.

Loki laughed and dashed the back of his hand across his face. "Odin was a fool to think he was ready, and I finally proved it. I even got to hear him say it - maybe that's the curse for treason. He's banished, and I'm here."

"Loki, what the hell are you talking about?" she hissed, ignoring Sigyn's approach.

Loki didn't look at her, but tossed more fitfully, a grayish tinge to his face, making that half-laugh, half-whimpering sound in his throat. "Protecting the realm from his idiotic rule. There are secret paths between the realms - even Heimdall doesn't know them. I do. Told Thor once; he didn't even care. I bet he does now. I'd have opened them for him, but no, no, they're just a trickster's folly, are they? What does a future king care no matter how many times I save his musclebound hide? The frost giants may be icebound thugs, but even they could see the advantage when one opened right at their front door."

Sif forgot herself altogether and seized his shoulders, ignoring his gasp of pain as she yanked him half-upright. "You showed them the way into the vault?! _You_ did?!"

Loki blinked at her, bewildered... then wrenched away and burst out laughing as tears streamed down his face. "I'm the monster! All this time, I was the monster! Surprise!"

Sif stumbled back as Sigyn began feeling Loki's forehead, ignoring his growls to leave him alone. _No, not a monster... Traitor... The Jotunn king spoke of traitors in the house of Odin, and it was you, you are the traitor..._

As Eir returned, Sif abandoned her post.

_**Coming This Weekend**__: Sif and Sigyn have a less-than-amiable chat about principles, and we head down to Midgard to catch up with Thor!_

**_Please don't forget to review!_**


	4. Chapter 3

_**Author's Notes:**__ I'm so glad people are enjoying this story, and taking the time to give feedback and comments - please keep them coming! They always make my day! I'm very glad that you're liking my take on some of the non-movieverse characters like Sigyn and Lord Frey. It's always a little unnerving to step outside the canon!_

**Chapter Three**

Sigyn followed Sif out of the healing rooms. "Where are you going?"

"I must report this to the king - to the council," Sif amended it. Treason had to be reported at once.

"And what are they to do?" A strange edge in the other woman's voice gave Sif pause. She looked back to find Sigyn staring at her with a harder face than she could ever recall. "Sentence him to death? They need only wait for that."

"It's our duty," Sif retorted. Sigyn raised a blonde eyebrow, and Sif felt suddenly defensive. "I don't act out of malice," she blurted.

"I never said you did," Sigyn replied in a low voice. What passed between them in the silence told a different tale.

And it was Sif who was forced to look away. "What would you have me do, then? I can't say nothing."

"Surely there are alternatives to denouncing him before the whole of Asgard," Sigyn insisted. "You saw no need to report Thor's treason straight to the king when he breached the peace."

"That was diff..." Sif trailed off. There went Sigyn's damned eyebrow again.

A shout from the healing rooms mercifully halted their standoff. Sigyn rushed to assist Eir with the struggling Loki while Sif hovered in the doorway. He cursed them, sweat-drenched and wild-eyed, trying to keep his wounded arm from their view - Sigyn seized a sedative potion and cast it into his face. Eir caught him as he collapsed, then his half-bandaged arm fell into Sif's view.

For a moment, she forgot all about her dilemma. "What in the..."

Loki's hand was blue. Eir and Sigyn exchanged a long look, then eyed her, and evidently decided there was nothing for it and went about their work, unwrapping the binding to reveal the discolored flesh from the tips of Loki's fingers up to his shoulder. Sif walked closer without realizing it until she could make out the faint patterns on his skin... and then it was as if her heart thudded down into her guts.

She stood there, stunned and silent while spells and healing stones were administered again, and Loki - Thor's _brother_, son of Odin - fell into a calmer sleep, and the arm and hand were hidden again. Eir straightened and cast a hard look at Sif. Oh, that was where Sigyn had picked up that eyebrow quirk. "Yes, the king and queen have always known, as anyone with half their wits ought to realize."

Sif swallowed thickly. "Thor?" _Thor who has dreamed all these years of "finishing Odin's work" in Jotunheim, of teaching them to fear... _

Eir's eyes briefly dropped, and she replied, "Not as far as I know. And as for Loki, he discovered it yesterday. He has taken it ill. Think on that before you raise a hue and cry," she added, and turned to go.

"I wasn't, I... I wasn't..." Sif stammered, but Eir left without a backward glance. There again was Sigyn, wiping Loki's face and watching her with accusing eyes. _Why do you look at me like that? Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault. I didn't mean, I never would... "_He didn't know?" she murmured.

Sigyn shrugged. "It seems not."

He was taking it ill, Eir said. As well he might. As any of them might, to suddenly find themselves the offspring of the enemy. Laughing and weeping at the same time, raging and terrified. Falling to poison and afraid to let anyone see the wound.

"_I'm the monster._"

He looked terrible. Even through whatever illusion had given him Aesir features, his eyes were sinking and shadowed, his skin growing more pallid and ashen by the hour. _He's dying. _It struck her in a new rush, that awareness. Loki was dying. She stared at Sigyn. "How long does he have?"

The bitterness fell from Sigyn's face, and grief replaced it. "A day or two. Perhaps."

Sif drew a shaky breath and marshaled her scattered thoughts. "I'll go to the queen."

* * *

Mjolnir was his no longer. All his cries, first his demands, then his pleas to Heimdall had gone unanswered, and in the end, even Mjolnir was beyond his strength. Despair gripped him in those hours in the son of Coul's custody, knowing he was cast out from Asgard in a weak mortal body, deprived of all that had made him Thor Odinson.

His people, his station, his friends, his name, his strength. His weapon.

His brother.

Then Erik Selvig came for him, and it dawned on Thor that even exiled in this realm, he was not friendless. It was like finding a star in the black sky, one tiny beacon of hope.

It wouldn't be the first time that a foul mood had been dispelled by a night of drinking and brawling and the company of a fair maiden, but somehow this was different. Rather than the headaches and return to his usual life, he felt under the dry sun of this realm something that had to be... peace. Perhaps acceptance at least, that this was the Allfather's will, and that even away from all he loved, he was not alone and friendless.

Beneath the stars on the roof of Jane Foster's dwelling, Thor pondered his new life. If only he could have but one boon... and it was not Mjolnir. It would be to know that Loki was all right.

Something had been terribly wrong in those last moments before Odin cast him out, but even his brother's wound had not softened Odin. Now Thor supposed that after what he'd brought down... the horror and suffering of war... perhaps he deserved to not know. To wonder and to fear.

He poured his heart out to Erik that night as they drank, as men well might over ale and good company. The mortal was sympathetic to Thor's anxiety, even to his sense of guilt for Loki's injury. For all his short lifetime, he'd seen dear friends fall and fade, some to the wasting age and ailments unique to humans, others to sudden, unexpected tragedy. That their lives were a fraction of Asgard meant their grief was no less. Erik spoke of Jane Foster's father as such a friend, not a brother in arms but a brother of a lifetime in their shared scholarly pursuits. Erik did not say it in so many words, but Thor could tell he understood what it was to fear and then grieve for a brother.

"Sounds like your dad's pretty ticked at you, but I'll bet your brother'll be just fine. If it were that serious, you'd probably have heard by now." The words were only light reassurance, spoken by one ignorant of any facts or the parties involved, but Thor was grateful nonetheless that Erik made the effort.

How Thor wished Loki were here; he would like Erik and Jane. Midgard's legends spoke of Asgard, of his and Loki's past sojourns and those of their ancestors. To ease Thor's mood, Erik regaled him with some of the more outlandish tales, and they debated where truth ended and legend began until they were both gasping with laughter. "Aw, come on, there has to be a grain of truth in there somewhere!"

"My brother may be given some credit for Sleipnir's existence, but not _that_ kind! Odin's steed is the product of magic alone." Oh, the look on Loki's face when he heard what the humans had made of that story. _If only I could see him to tell him. If I only knew he was well, I could accept this exile with a glad heart._

It should have occurred to him that a mortal man would not have the tolerance for drinking and brawling that even Thor's mortal body would, and he felt guilty the next day for Erik's sorry state. So Thor volunteered to aid in preparing the morning meal so Erik could rest (and prevent Darcy from poisoning them all, if Jane was to be believed). He could tell that despite their bonding of the previous evening, none of the mortals truly believed him to be who he was.

_Perhaps they're right, _he mused to himself as he assisted Jane with the dishes. The thought was more funny than troubling. _Perhaps it was all a dream. _Well, there were worse places to wake up from a fantastical delusion than at the side of a fair, clever lady and a kind, wise man -

*_BANGBANGBANG!_* "Found you!"

Thought dismissed.

Darcy and Erik's cups shattered upon the floor. If Thor been holding anything more fragile than a towel, it too would have met its end at the sight of Sif and the Warriors Three rattling the door.

Babbled explanations and embraces and delighted shouts followed, and at first, his heart soared at Fandral's words. "We've been sent to bring you home."

It surprised him to feel the intense pang at the way Jane and Erik's faces fell. Even as he rejoiced to see his comrades in arms, to know he was not forgotten... He stepped away from them and sighed. "It seems my father may allow me to properly beg his pardon for the...trouble I brought down. But I'll never forget your kindness, my friends. If it's in my power, I will repay you properly someday."

"Ohhh, we'll miss you though!" Darcy threw her arms around his neck, causing Fandral to pretend to wipe away a tear. Sif and Hogun's perceptive eyes, on the other hand, were focused on Jane.

Erik gave him a one-armed embrace, but Thor asked Jane, "Would you like to see the bridge we spoke of?"

They walked out beyond the town to the site of the Bifrost, only to find that the son of Coul and his men were investigating. "Hello, Donald. I don't think you've been completely honest with us."

"Thor, we should not delay," murmured Hogun.

"I'm afraid you'll have to," Coulson said. The words were casual, spoken with a pleasant smile, but sight of his men putting themselves very deliberately between Thor and the Bifrost was not so pleasant.

Sif bristled and stepped towards the small man. "_I_ am afraid he can't." Even as Thor held out a hand to restrain her, she turned back to him and lowered her voice. "There is more, though we wished to tell you in private. It's Loki."

_Oh, Allfather... No. No no, not Loki, no nononono... _"Not dead," Thor whispered. The sun seemed to have grown unbearably bright. "_Please_..."

Volstagg shook his head. "No, no, he's alive. But... he's in a bad way."

So that was it. Hot, heavy dread rose up in Thor's chest, sizzling with remorse and despair. _They did not come because the Allfather has relented. He's not calling me home. He has sent for me because my brother is... what have I done? _

"I can't stay," he breathed at Coulson. He did not wish to fight these men again, did not wish to fight anyone or anything or make any move that did not lead to his brother's side. His mortal body felt weak, and he knew it was not due to hunger.

"Agents," Erik was protesting. "Come on, have a heart, the guy's got a family emergency! Just let him go!"

"If he really is a prince from an alien race, it's not very good diplomacy to detain him," added Darcy.

A tall mortal archer stepped from the group of Coulson's warriors. "If you're the genuine Thor, how come you couldn't lift the hammer?" he asked.

An hour ago, Thor would have been depressed just to think of it, not to mention humiliated. Now it felt like nothing, and he was impatient to leave this realm, Mjolnir and all. "Because I'm not worthy of it. Enough. I don't wish to do your people further injury, but if you try to stop me, I will. Heimdall!" he called out. "Open the Bifrost!"

At least it seemed Heimdall could still hear him. The humans shouted in surprise and alarm as the bridge opened. Coulson looked from the rainbow column back to Thor, then motioned his men out of their path. Past the whirling panic in his mind, Thor was aware that it was a major concession. He ought to acknowledge it, but he could barely think straight. "Thank you, good sir," said Volstagg gravely.

Thor turned quickly to Erik and Darcy. "Farewell, my friends." He seized Jane's hand quickly and kissed it. "Thank you. For everything." Then he forced himself to turn away from her full eyes and ran into the bridge.

_Forgive me for not lingering longer, Jane, but I fear there are others whose forgiveness I must also beg while there's still time. _

The ride back into Asgard was silent and frantic, but arriving only led to more confusion. For Thor was met not by the Allfather, but by Frigga, Frey of Alfheim, and several of Odin's councilors. "The king has fallen into the Odinsleep," said Ullr without preamble.

Thor froze. "What?"

"Asgard is leaderless." There was a chill in Frigga's voice that he'd never heard before, and he cringed to realize the reason for it. "I had the authority to order your return, but until Odin awakens, you cannot be restored to power. You're called home for your brother's sake."

Thor swallowed hard and fought to continue looking her in the eye. He was justly reproached. He would have to bear it as a man should, mortal or Aesir. "Tell me of Loki."

Under her stony composure, he saw Frigga tremble. She gestured curtly to the councilors, who departed, looking resigned. To Thor's surprise, Frey stayed, as did Sif and the Warriors Three. Frigga told him, "If Asgard cannot broker a swift peace with Jotunheim, and mercy from Laufey besides, Loki will not live another day."

It was said that humans died when their hearts simply ceased beating. Thor wondered if this was how it felt. He wished to speak, to ask for details, to demand what by the Norns had _happened_, to beg Frigga's forgiveness and admit his fault in this calamity, to rage and roar vengeance at Laufey for bringing death upon one who did not deserve it - but his throat simply would not clear to allow it. So he stood in shameful silence, burning under his mother's stare and Asgard's blame - then he reeled as Frigga's hand struck his face in an open, full-armed slap.

It was the most painful blow he'd ever felt. But he made himself look at her again. And if his voice broke, well, that slap was proof already of his disgrace. A few tears couldn't make it much worse. "May I see him?"

"There's more." Frigga had risked cracking her own facade in indulging the rage she felt, and her voice too was unsteady. "Loki's unwilling to see you. If you're to go to him, it must be against his wishes."

_Because it's all my fault._ Well, why should Loki not blame him? His breath caught, and he couldn't help it. But Frigga's explanation left him utterly confused. "This could not possibly be a worse moment to tell you, but there's no time left. Tell me, Thor, are you prepared to cast your brother off if he should not meet your expectations?"

At least the shock had the effect of pushing back the sobs trying to rise from his throat. He stared at her in disbelief. Frigga's mouth twisted in pain and bitterness, and she went on, "Suppose I were to tell you that Loki is not your brother by blood. Will his life matter less to you?"

She was making no sense. _Loki... Loki... _He just wanted to see him. To promise it would be all right, as if they were boys again and Loki had broken his leg climbing rocks and Thor had been afraid to hurt him worse by carrying him over the hills and sat at his side half the night, shivering from cold and fear and still insisting his little brother would be safe until searchers found them.

His mind reeled. "I don't understand. He _is_ my brother."

"Until you took it into your head to incite war with Jotunheim, Loki believed that too," Frigga sighed. Now she was the one who looked away. "The Jotnar's poison revealed his true bloodline to him, as if he were not in enough pain and fear already. He was saved by Odin from abandonment; we raised him as our own beside you." She took another long breath and met his eyes again, challenging him. "So, Thor Odinson? What say you? Does this lessen his worth in your eyes?"

How could she think that? Some spark of pride stirred again in him, indignant at the notion that his love was so fickle. He lifted his chin. "Loki _is_ my brother, and mortal or not, I will thrash anyone who says otherwise."

Frey smiled, abandoning his silent watch of the discussion. "I'm glad to find you resolved, Odinson - you'll need it. Only a Jotunn magician will have any chance of saving Loki."

Well, mortal or Aesir, perhaps he could prove his resolve was unchanged. "Then we must act quickly. But take me to him. Please," he said, stepping towards his mother. "I know it's my fault, but if he's in mortal danger I won't let him go any longer doubting my love for him."

There was fear in her voice. Fear and doubt. "He's Jotunn, Thor," she whispered. Thor blinked. "Odin found him in the ruined temple at Utgard. That's why the dart didn't kill him instantly, and that's why he's afraid of you."

Of all the shocking things she had just uttered, the last was by far the worst. _Loki afraid of me? _Annoyed with him, often. Jealous of him, sometimes - he'd admitted as much. Competitive with him, always. Disgusted with him... he ought to be. Maybe even ashamed of him now, stripped of title and realm and inheritance for his stupid bravado, leaving Asgard without a king. Unworthy.

Through a clenched jaw, he hissed, "I don't care about his parentage. He's still my brother!"

Frigga let out her breath in a rush, and it stabbed him further to know how very much she'd been in doubt of his answer. But she stepped from his path, and he took that as permission to go to the healing rooms. Perhaps this mortal body wasn't so weak after all, or at least adrenaline was as powerful a thing for humans as it was for Aesir: he ran all the way.

**_To be continued..._**

**_Coming Mid-Week: _**_Thor must adjust fast to a new outlook on Asgard - and Jotunheim - as his brother's final hours approach. Whether Loki can be convinced of Thor's love, let alone survive, is another question._

**Please don't forget to review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**_Author's Notes:_**_ A bit of unreliable narrating in this chapter, for reasons that should be pretty obvious. Also, to confirm: this story is GEN and is not shipping Thor or Loki with anyone. There are some close friendships, a bit of sexual tension from the comic and movie canons, but everybody's too wrapped up in angst (or dying) to be thinking about romance._

**_Credit Where Credit Is Due: _**_To Mikkeneko, for the description of Thor's scent. _

**Chapter Four**

It was growing harder and harder to keep his eyes open, let alone keep them focused. He was hot, then he was cold, and his left side alternated between blinding agony and numbness.

The sensation of hot-cold-throbbing was rising up his neck, crossing his chest. Lying on that side probably was not doing anything to ease the pain, but with the blanket pulled up under his chin like a child, he could (he thought) still hide the effects. It would be futile in the end, he knew, but at least he was doing something. There was no other course left to him. He submitted when the healers insisted on exposing his flesh - because he no longer had the strength to struggle.

How much longer could this last? How much longer could _he_ last? He hoped it would be over before Odin awoke. He simply no longer cared. _Just let it end. _

He felt a few pangs for Frigga when he sensed her sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair. She would grieve. She was too gentle not to, too indiscriminate in her affection. _Even though she lied just like Odin. _Had she simply dismissed his origins, letting herself see him as her own Aesir baby (if inferior to her firstborn's perfection) and loved the false form rather than the pretender underneath? Well, the pretense was burning away under cursed poison, but despite the realm being in chaos, she still kept returning to his side.

After uncounted hours of drifting in and out of awareness, in between pain and numbness, fear and anger and despair and indifference, he dully noticed the healers stirring nearby as someone approached. His bleary vision could still place Sigyn's willowy form and Eir's cloud of dark hair, and place the other healers as well as his mother. But this figure was broader, and even to his failing senses, there was something odd... not Aesir. Too pale to be Jotunn - Norns forbid - but -

The golden hair and bronze skin and familiar muscled build came into focus, and recognition was so white-hot with panic that his new visitor might as well have sent a bolt of lightning through him. Loki lurched back, trying to get upright, adrenaline lending him reserves of strength he thought spent and speed he thought lost. It caught the healers by surprise as he evaded their hands and tumbled to the floor with a crash. All thought, all consciousness funneled into one frenzied, desperate intention: _Get away_.

Why survival instinct had returned so violently, he couldn't guess and couldn't spare the thought to wonder, but underneath the panic was the awareness: Thor was going to kill him. He would never stomach a Jotunn pretender in Odin's court, not even one who had called him brother. Whatever feminine compassion Frigga might have for an enemy's child, whatever lip service Odin might have paid to caring for Loki, Thor was an entirely different matter.

_He'll never have me he'll see he'll see and he'll kill me he'll kill me with his bare hands he'll hate me he'll hate me - _

_"_Loki! LOKI, stop!" There were hands and arms all around as he fought to untangle himself from the bedclothes. Why, why?! Didn't they realize what Thor would do? They were healers, sworn to be merciful to all, their duty was the same to any in their halls, why allow Thor here?

There were too many arms, too many hands, their voices a meaningless clamor in his ears, and he couldn't escape, couldn't get up - he gave up trying to buck them off or wriggle free and twisted back onto his side, sending lances of pain shooting through his chest and limbs and curled in on himself, his good hand over his face to hide it, hide it to the last. He was going to die now, shamed and despised, what difference did it make if he huddled like a coward?

Then those big hands were on him, calloused from wielding Mjolnir - the power behind them oddly muted, but still unmistakably Thor's...

Through the roaring in his ears and his own ragged breathing, he heard... quiet. He blinked, trying to focus through the blur of light and color... the first thing he saw were blue eyes, red-rimmed, a face as familiar as his own (the false one, anyway), but showing more distress than he could ever recall. Thor, distraught? Why?

One of those hands on his face - he flinched away. Maybe he still hadn't realized... "Loki! Please, brother, listen to me, I am _not_ going to hurt you!"

_What? _This was madness. Thor sounded like he was weeping. Not clad in his armor, only some flimsy fabric. He even - he felt like a mortal still, as if Odin had not restored him to power. Still, even a mortal ought to manage to snap Loki's neck or cut his throat, so why did Thor hesitate?

As Thor pulled him closer still, Loki squirmed, and heard, "Stop this! I can't bear it, Loki, you can't be afraid of me! Please say you still know me!"

Thor was... embracing him? There was that scent, of leather, sweat and ozone that always marked Loki's brother's presence. These arms, the broad chest... like an old memory of boyhood. It recalled a time when Thor hadn't looked at his brother as just a burden, and Loki hadn't been too proud to accept affection.

Strange that he could remember it so easily.

Oh, so that was it. _He's not real. _This was a phantom, his mind crumbling into delusion under the poison. Well, at least a delusion wouldn't painfully bash in his skull. Loki relaxed against the warm chest, wondering whether his own magic or just imagination had made it seem so real. Let alone so comforting.

"I'm here," Thor whispered. "Loki, brother, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It was all my fault!"

Definitely a dream. Thor would never admit such a thing. Someone was stroking his hair again: Frigga. Was she real, or also a phantom? Maybe both, attending Loki's deathbed as he lost all grip on reality. On the off chance it was really her, he mumbled, "Have you told him what I am?"

She smiled through her tears, and Thor answered, "I don't care what blood you are. You're my _brother_."

Loki laughed weakly. Wishful thinking. Strange that in his heart of hearts, he would still long for Thor's approval after all this time, that his dying mind would manufacture such a declaration. "Sentiment, even for a monster?"

"Don't say that."

He hurt. Had the blueness spread to his face now? Was it revealed to all who entered? The real Thor would be so disgusted. "I didn' know..." His words were slurred. "I didn't. Thought I was like you."

"You're all that you ever were, little brother."

"'s not true. Trickster... magic's for cowards, you said."

"I was _wrong_!"

Why did he sound so desperate? So remorseful. Thor wasn't capable of feeling guilt. Loki had tried many times over the years. For Thor to be susceptible to guilt would first require him to admit fault for something, and that was impossible. Not that Loki himself could claim much superiority on that point. "_You are incapable of sincerity." _

Thor had had it wrong there. Sometimes Loki did speak and say precisely what he meant... but after centuries of manipulations, subtle twisting of truth and falsehood and sly double-meanings, no one expected him to be direct, so there was no real risk in being so. Thus, there were occasionally things he said to Thor that weren't false. Things that even did come from the heart, secret even in their plainness. "_Sometimes I'm envious. But never doubt that I love you." _

And this was a dream. Thor wasn't really here, professing his love. So there was no risk to speaking his mind. Even if Loki spoke aloud, maybe... well, maybe after the end, someone would repeat it to Thor, and he might remember Loki with some emotion other than loathing and revulsion. "I never wanted a throne," he sighed, resting his head on Thor's shoulder. "Only wanted to be your equal."

"You will be," Thor insisted. "When this is over, you will be, I promise. I'll be a better brother. Loki... Loki?"

The fog was back, hot and clammy, and the vision was fading. Loki was sorry to lose it. If he couldn't die as a warrior at least he could have died as a brother... but the fog rose up and enveloped him, and he felt nothing else.

* * *

"No - no!" _Loki, brother, please don't die! _Thor was torn between clutching Loki to him in panic and weeping liking a child and roaring at the healers to _DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT! _ He had never felt so helpless as Loki's eyes fluttered, then fell closed.

Red eyes. Deep ruby red eyes in a Jotunn's blue face, his skin faintly etched with delicate patterns that must be some native trait. In the back of his mind, Thor had always assumed the frost giants made those patterns, some sort of tattoo, and had never bothered to ask. Like everything else about them, he'd just dismissed it as another part of their barbaric strangeness.

Now he held one in his arms and wanted to collapse, howling, at the thought of letting him go. _I was wrong, I was a fool, you're mine, and I can't lose you now, please don't go!  
_  
However, there was something far more wrong and horrific about Loki's appearance. The grayish tinge that dulled the blue of his skin from the deep cerulean of the Jotnar, the black veins visible especially on the side where he'd been wounded, making his flesh look thinner. Even the red eyes were dulled with ill health.

Thor had seen many frost giants die and never given it a second thought. Now he sat upon the floor in numb anguish, barely able to move from the weight of grief. It was the healers who lifted Loki from his arms and laid him back in his bed, and reassured the frightened Frigga that he still breathed. "But..." Eir glanced cautiously from the queen to her disgraced elder son and admitted. "The end draws near."

He would go to Nornheim. Throw himself at the feet of the spinners of fate. Let them cut the thread of his life if they would only spare Loki.

Others in the Nine Realms had tried such a thing before - mothers for their children, husbands for their wives - and the Norns had been unmoved. Why would they be likely to grant such a miracle to one such as Thor, a poor example of Asgard's power and still poorer example of brotherhood.

_Only a Jotunn magician can save him, _Frey had said. Thor shook his head and got to his feet. He wanted to stay, to hold Loki and comfort him and repeat all he'd said, again and again until Loki didn't doubt it, but the end result would only be to watch him die. And then... some yawning chasm lay beyond that point in his mind, empty and gray and devoid of life. _Alone. _

_Whatever quest lies before me, if I can't save him, let me die in the attempt. _He forced himself to turn away from the bed, from Frigga holding Loki's now-blue hand to her cheek, and went for the door.

Sif and the Warriors Three were waiting outside for him. "The council hasn't even managed to agree on who the ambassadors should be," Volstagg fumed.

"That's not the only problem," Hogun said, dispassionate as always. "What position is Asgard to take at this hour? To reveal such desperation to a realm that has declared war is dangerous - even if the desperation is just," he added, inclining his head to Thor. "What have we to offer them for peace, let alone such a boon as the service of one of their sorcerers?"

Fandral wrinkled his nose. "We know what Laufey wants. The Casket."

Even as Thor looked up, Sif seized one of his arms, Fandral the other. "No, Thor. Do not think of it. That _is_ treason, not to mention folly, and - and Loki would say the same!" she growled. He could not pull free of them in this mortal body, but his fists balled nonetheless. His trained instincts bellowing agreement that such a wild, desperate act would be disastrous, warring against his heart wailing that he cared not if it would win Loki's cure.

But then behind them, "She is right, my prince."

It was Sigyn Dellingsdottir, or Sigyn the Scholar, Lady of Learning as Thor and his friends had once styled her - not meaning to be flattering. When they weren't mocking her as they'd done to Loki, they had ignored her - also like they had Loki. Thor had at least occasionally called a halt to the taunts against his brother, moved by sibling concern. Sigyn had never had such a protector.

There was yet another source of shame for him. How had Odin ever thought before now that Thor was fit to rule anything? _"Vain, greedy, cruel boy." I was. I was. _

She was composed as ever, but her eyes were red-rimmed. Thor was glad of her now as he'd never been before, relieved to think that there was someone in Asgard apart from himself and his parents who cared for Loki's suffering, for Loki's sake.

He sighed, and Sif and Fandral decided he'd relented enough to risk releasing their grip. Scrubbing at his face, he asked, "Where is Lord Frey? He's negotiated with Laufey before."

"With the council."

"Let's go." He caught himself and turned back to Sigyn. "My lady? Thank you."

Sigyn took a hesitant step towards him, and he waited, sensing she had something else to tell him. "I... your brother is deeply fevered, my lord. It's possible he... won't remember you were here."

That hurt, though he didn't think she meant it unkindly. Thor turned back towards Odin's halls, then back towards the healing room again - twice - before finally settling on a course. "Then tell him, if he - " his throat caught and he had to swallow hard. "_When_ he wakes. Tell him everything I said. I swear on my life and my name it was true."

For the first time he could ever recall, Sigyn smiled at him.

* * *

Sif knew there were plenty of courtiers and nobles who were not close friends of Thor, and had always dismissed such men as envious and beneath their notice. Not so now. No one in Asgard with the smallest acuity of their senses could miss that Thor was stripped of power and authority and therefore, vulnerable. And it wasn't physical vulnerability that concerned her.

Thor was as brusque as ever in addressing them, turning his attention to Frey the moment he came through the chamber doors. "What gifts had been welcomed by Jotunheim in the past? What can Asgard offer them that will not weaken us in the realms?"

Tyr might find Thor's impatience frustrating, but at least he was wise and sympathetic, and didn't diminish Thor's standing. "There's little, my prince. To plea for peace and a sorcerer's aid will be to confess we have no means of treating the curse on Loki. Not to mention revealing that Loki is not Aesir but Jotunn."

Thor stiffened, and Sif winced. She hadn't thought of that either. What would Laufey say when he realized Odin's second son was a child of Jotunheim? Fandral finally voiced what now occurred to them all: "You don't think he'd demand Loki back?!"

Frey shook his head. "Unlikely. Male children of the Jotnar are bred for size and physical strength, especially during times of war. Your queen tells me the Allfather discovered him in the temple. That's consistent with their rituals."

"Ritual infanticide." Volstagg looked torn between breaking something and being sick. Sif found herself patting his arm.

"Not entirely. Death is not the only outcome. If the child lives long enough, he may be deemed strong enough to satisfy, and taken by another family or even his own. Odin inadvertently fulfilled the custom: anyone who takes such a child and proclaims it his has an uncontested right. I can safely say this is the first time the adoptive parent has been of Asgard, but it's not the first time another realm has raised a Jotunn child."

Thor let out his breath. "So whatever Laufey charges on me, he'll not accuse the Allfather of child-stealing."

"Well, he'll accuse the Allfather of whatever he likes. There have been plenty of foul words flung between them in their long years." Frey considered a book, some great text of the histories open on a table. "A prisoner exchange during wartime, but you've no prisoners to give. So it's a bribe or nothing. Asgard has great wealth, but you will literally need a prince's ransom."

"And Jotunheim can promptly spend what gold we pay on mercenaries to harangue our borders, make their forces that much stronger!" said Bragi.

"What if we don't tell him the victim is Loki?" suggested Sif. "Is it certain they know? Could not one of us play the part?"

"They'll work it out when he doesn't return with Thor," said Frey. "And if Thor was the intended target and they get the idea that he's the one stricken..."

They would definitely let Thor die and chortle about it. But the councilors were aghast. "You can't suggest that Thor go back to Jotunheim, let alone like this!" exclaimed someone.

"They'll either kill him or just laugh while he freezes to death where he stands!"

"Then so be it!" Thor exploded. "I will NOT do nothing while my brother dies from their curse! Give me enough gold to serve as a suitable tribute, and let us go rather than stand here squabbling!"

"You have no authority to order it," said Bragi sharply. "Nor to command anything in Asgard, cast-out."

The room went dead silent. Sif's mother glared at her husband. "He is still Odin's son."

Thor was rigid next to Sif, and by the stance of the others in the corner of her eye, she suspected their minds were all on the same thought: whether to let Thor pound Bragi for the insult or take the duty onto themselves since at the moment, Thor could not. A few of the courtiers were of Idunn's mind, outraged by the disrespect, but others were nodding in agreement with its fundamental truth: Thor Odinson had been banished, called back on the word of Frigga, not Odin, and he held neither title nor station in Asgard. The vast majority were simply avoiding Thor's eyes.

"Do you truly mean to do nothing?" she asked them coldly. "And when the Allfather awakens, tell him all Asgard stood by and let his second son perish? What chance will there be of preventing war then?"

Sigyn's father Delling shut his eyes. "We _cannot_ go forth to Jotunheim without a king's authority, and we have none, Lady Sif! Even if we could determine where the line of succession falls after Loki, there's... just not enough time."

Thor whirled, but instead of throwing things as Sif had feared, he stormed from the chamber. Sif ran after him and heard the Warriors Three following. "Where the hell are you going?" Fandral demanded as they found their distraught friend heading not towards the healing rooms, but in the opposite direction.

Thor turned and looked hard at them. "We're going to Jotunheim."

They all stared. "Ahh, Thor, really, I think we've heard this song before, and it's not a catchy tune!" exclaimed Volstagg.

The snort of laughter in response had no humor, and it was a truly terrible sound. Sif swallowed hard, and Thor noticed her dismay. "Do you think I mean to declare war, Sif? Your father's right; I have no such power, and Laufey's people will recognize that immediately."

"But it was also a fair point that in this form, you'd be dead in a few hours," Fandral protested. "Even assuming Laufey doesn't claim you for direct vengeance for our skirmish!"

Thor's smile was cold. "He won't have to. I'm going to give it to him."

_To be continued..._

**_Coming this weekend: _**_Thor is desperate to go, and his friends are desperate to stop him. All of our heroes have to decide how far they will go for all they hold dear... and the frost giants are forced to reexamine their own position._

**Please don't forget to review!**


	6. Chapter 5

**_Author's Notes:_**_ Many thanks to everyone for all the feedback! The draft of this tale is now fully complete, holding at eleven chapters plus the prologue and epilogue. Most of the cultural traits of Jotunheim in this chapter are my own invention, although I've borrowed quite a few tidbits from mythology. _

**Chapter Five**

It was only when Thor began walking again that Sif and the Warriors Three broke out of paralysis to chase after him. "Thor, this is madness!"

"Is this madness?" Thor shook them off as he approached his horse. "Is it?" Silfrintopp nickered, but butted his head against his master, unconcerned with Thor's changed status. Thor shut his eyes and scratched the beast's nose. "One of the last things I said to him in Jotunheim was to remember his place. And look where I was, leading him to his death when he had warned me then it was madness!"

"Loki provoked you!" Sif exploded. "The frost giants came to Asgard through a path _he_ showed them, to halt your coronation!"

Thor froze. There was a soft "tsk" nearby, and they found that Lord Frey had followed. He gave them a blithe smile of false reluctance, as if he'd not intended to eavesdrop. "Oh dear. I'd wondered if that would turn out to be the case."

Sif bit her lip and waited for what her friend would say. The Warriors Three were likewise silent, their dismayed gazes flitting from Sif to Thor as he took it in. At last, he mused, "So that's what he meant."

"When?"

"In the healing room..." Thor's voice was very low and rough with pain. "He told me he never wanted a throne. Only to be my equal." He shut his eyes and rested his head against Silfrintopp's neck. "He wasn't the one who breached the peace, and I won't let him be the one who pays for it." Sif's heart sank as Thor's resolve grew and he turned to Frey. "Come with me to Jotunheim, let them see I'm in earnest. I'll give Laufey his ransom for a magician's service. And if he protests Odin taking a son of his people, let him take one in return." Now he smirked. "As Bragi pointed out, I've no authority - technically, I'm still banished. So I can do with myself what I wish."

Frey said nothing, but as Thor mounted, he beckoned his own horse without waiting for Sif or the others to muster more arguments. Sif wondered as she followed them whether any of them had learned from the folly of last time, merely trailing along blindly after Thor's whims, no matter what trouble he courted.

Somehow... as she watched him... it didn't seem that way. And that gave her some inkling of hope.

Outside the Observatory, Heimdall was downright sarcastic. "Now you are most definitely not dressed warmly enough."

The weariness in Thor's voice was troubling. "I haven't the time to return for a cloak, Gatekeeper. With no place in Asgard, I don't own one. Let me pass to Jotunheim."

"Do you plan to die this time?"

"If I must. If that's the price Laufey demands, then let me pay it as I should. Whatever Loki did to halt my coronation, it was I who provoked this conflict, and I'm the one responsible for his wound. I won't stand idle while he dies." Thor approached Heimdall. "Please," he said urgently. "Open the Bifrost. Let me try to right this."

The Gatekeeper locked eyes with him. "Bragi had the right of it, if indelicately put. You have no prize but your own self to offer Jotunheim, and if they take it, Asgard may not be able to save you." But he went to open the bridge. "Mortal senses are weaker than any being in the Nine Realms, son of Odin, but your sight has grown clearer."

Thor looked back as the Bifrost spiraled to life. "That sounded like approval."

"It was."

But when Thor frowned at his friends, Volstagg growled, "Don't even say it, Thor." So Thor sighed and relented, and they stepped into the bridge.

They didn't arrive to silent, frigid wastes this time. The site was well-watched now, and they were instantly on the business end of a hundred Jotnar spears. "Hold!" Frey barked at them. "We come to treat with Laufey!"

Sif and the Warriors Three had moved instinctively to protect Thor on all sides, not only to guard his flanks, but to try to keep him warm (as subtly as possible.) Red frost giant eyes glared at them from all directions, but the weapons were stayed. Sif wondered how long it would take for the cold to start affecting Thor in his mortal state. And how long it would take for the frost giants to notice.

"What is this?" Laufey could not have been far away, for it only took moments for him to appear. "Do you think to force my hand by bringing the puppet king of Alfheim?"

Frey smiled thinly. "My regards and greetings to the king of the Jotnar, and thanks for the prompt audience."

Laufey sneered. "Does Odin imagine I'll allow entry to this whelp even as ambassador. I should take the heads of all of you now."

"And provoke war with Vanaheim and Alfheim for the bargain? Did you not warn of its cost before?" asked Volstagg.

"You reconsider it too late, Asgardians. Your callow prince wanted this, and not even his br..." Sif felt a tremor from Thor that she doubted was due to the cold. Laufey leaned forward, his eyes scanning their company, and taking account of what it must mean. "So, that's it? I wondered why you would dare Jotunheim again. Even a foolish braggart would know what awaits him. Tell me, Thor, what of your younger, cleverer brother? Why is he not at your heels?"

Sif held her breath. She was so close to Thor that she could feel how deeply he was breathing. This cold air had to be painful. It hurt even her Aesir lungs, but Thor didn't seem to notice. "For whom was that dart intended?" Thor growled. "For me, or did you aim for the son of Odin who tried to preserve the peace?"

"A pity. My archer thought his strike missed. Oh, it was for you, Thor of Asgard, as one last means of averting war."

"_Averting_ war by assassinating the heir of Odin?!" Fandral bellowed. Frey caught his shoulder.

Laufey went on, untroubled. "We had the right to vengeance. Sixty-five Jotunns died for the sake of this brat's vanity, and his life was forfeit with the first! I was even prepared to spare the rest of you, and Odin could not have denied the matter was settled. But that swift little shadow took the death meant for you, and now there is no tribute you can offer that will answer for the blood you shed!"

And Thor stepped off the proverbial ledge. "Loki still lives."

Sif couldn't help the way her breath caught, but the sound was lost in the murmur and shuffle that ran through the Jotnar. For the first time, Laufey of Jotunheim looked... shocked. "What did you say?"

Thor had to push Hogun hard to get him to step aside so he could look the Jotunn king in the face. In the part of her mind not paralyzed by dread, Sif noted for the first time that Laufey was... several hands shorter than most of his warriors.

_Male children deemed too small are left in the temple. Those who live long enough to be deemed strong may be reclaimed or taken by others_. Was Laufey himself such a one? How long was long enough for a baby to be spared a cold, fearful death?

Laufey's eyes flashed red as he looked at Frey, then back at Thor, who held his ground. Thor repeated, "Loki is still alive. Lord Frey and I come to parley for an end to hostilities, and a magician of Jotunheim to treat the curse."

The disbelief was fading from the Jotunn king's face, giving way to rage. Sif made her limbs rigid so she wouldn't succumb to the temptation to haul Thor back. By the way their friends were shifting, they were thinking the same. Laufey advanced, his teeth bared. "So. Not only as Odin the slayer of thousands, usurper of worlds and their treasures, he even lowers himself to theft of children!"

Frost clung to the looser parts of Thor's Earth garment, yet he still wasn't shivering, and his voice was clear. "Lord Frey told us of your rites. Odin found Loki in your temple and took him in for mercy! He broke no law of Jotunheim, and whoever left him - "

Laufey surged forward, and before any of them could do more than shout, his hands were on Thor's neck. "He was MINE!"

Now Thor cried out, unable to help it as the giant's ice burned him, and Sif and the Warriors Three and Frey all leaped forward. Violence might have been inevitable had Frey not got between the enraged king and his target, knocking Thor free. "Then why did you subject him to the temple if you meant to keep him?" Frey demanded, motioning Sif and the Warriors Three towards Thor.

"He was too small!" Laufey shouted. "Too small in a time of war and his mother dead! But had he withstood the hours, I would have returned for him! When did Odin take him?!" Now Thor was coughing and shuddering, jolted from his determination by pain - and probably by the shock at this news.

But in this, they'd exposed yet another piece of the puzzle. As Thor struggled back to his feet, trying to save face, Laufey studied him. "You are Aesir no longer, Thor Odinson." Red eyes widened, and now he smiled again. "So, by brokering peace with us, you hope to return to Odin's good graces. Does Odin even know you're here?"

"Whether he knows matters little, for as you now discern, I am cast out. But in so doing, my father has given me a boon - my freedom, to do with myself what I see fit. I can command no army against Jotunheim, nor order a tribute of treasure for her king amid great fanfare, but I can offer you the vengeance you seek."

Never had the act of dropping to one knee seemed more like a challenge flung. Thor's eyes were bright in the dim light of this world, and Sif's heart hammered with what she slowly realized was not only fear and anxiety but... pride. She'd felt pride at Thor's side many times, riding in triumph from a battle won, defeating powerful foes, repelling enemies from the homes of innocents. How could it be that she would be proud now, to see him surrender with his face uplifted, before the enemy they'd all been taught was the lowest and foulest?

"Take your revenge on the one who did the harm. You see I'm punished by my father, but I'll submit to any you demand. For peace, Laufey, not for myself. For my brother. If you will send a magician to Asgard to heal my brother, then I am yours, to be put to the axe or the ice or any fate you declare for the deaths I caused."

They were gaining an audience. Other Jotnar who didn't look like warriors were coming closer to witness these unorthodox negotiations. In a few furtive scans of the growing crowd, Sif noted great diversity in the Jotnar's shapes and sizes. There were plenty of the ten-foot warriors with whom Asgard was most familiar, but a fair amount of the adult population was... not that much taller than the Aesir.

And their breakthrough came from a Jotunn smaller still. "A magician's services are ordered, my lord king?"

The watchers gave way for the speaker just as the warriors had given it for their king. From their ranks came a lady, the first female Jotunn that Sif could recall ever seeing. She was as tall as Fandral, maybe a hand taller than Sif. She had hair rather than the bony ridges upon the male warriors' heads. It was black and lush, falling to her waist. Her gown was of the same fabric as the warriors' garments - absurdly thin for such a climate, but no doubt the cold was no concern for her. It was quite the shock to Sif (more so to Fandral, she would wager): this Jotunn woman was beautiful. Even Frey was staring at her.

But not Thor. He had eyes only for Laufey. "I am just payment for my attack. Let peace be assured. Take me and let the curse be lifted from Loki. And then do with me what you will."

Laufey scowled. He had to be wondering how many more surprises there would be this day. He eyed the giantess, (though with her height it was a misnomer) and asked, "You're prepared to venture into our enemies' stronghold to spare one of these invaders?"

As sour as he sounded, Sif marked the way many Jotunns looked to the giantess to make the decision. If she was a sorceress of power, it was understandable. The giantess considered them, then looked at Lord Frey. "So Loki Odinson is in fact a child of Jotunheim? A son of Laufey, no less?" Frey nodded. She turned to address Laufey. "Then my king, I beg leave to depart to Asgard, to bring aid to one of our own as right of kin."

For the briefest instance, Frey betrayed surprise. Then he smoothed down his diplomatic mask and turned back to Laufey. "Well, my lord king? Have we not a fair proposal? One of your fine Volur offers her services. To halt the end of more innocent lives, and the culprit surrenders to you in the name of peace."

"What of his companions?"

"They will join me in providing safe escort to the lady through Asgard and assuring her safe return."

Even as Sif leaped towards Thor with a shout of protest, Laufey grinned coldly. "I accept."

Thor shoved Sif away when she tried to seize him. "Go. GO!"

"Thor, for the love of - " Volstagg began.

" - For me," Thor hissed at them. "If not for Loki, then for me!" He made no resistance as two giants moved into take him, and Sif found herself seized by Hogun.

"Say nothing," he muttered in her ear. Frey was hauling Fandral with him, Volstagg trailing after in despair, then the Bifrost activated again and the last thing Sif saw of Jotunheim was Thor's smile through the closing crowd of giants. He looked as confident and assured as when they'd first come here, as if nothing had changed.

Then they stumbled into the Observatory. The giantess watched as Sif and the Warriors Three stared back at the closing bridge. "I can't believe we just left him there," Volstagg breathed.

Hogun turned away first, eyes dark. "The choice was his." He looked at the Jotunn woman. "What did you mean when you spoke of right of kin?"

Frey's mouth twitched, and Heimdall raised his eyebrows. The sorceress gave them a thin smile. "There was not time for a formal introduction. I am Gerd, daughter of Gymir. Nál, the late queen of Jotunheim, was my first cousin." In the part of her mind not frozen from shock and despair (and cold), Sif supposed that her own face must be mirroring the utter astonishment on Fandral and Volstagg's. Even Hogun looked surprised. Gerd nodded towards the doors. "A Jotunn by right of kin may give aid to any of their family, even against declared allegiances."

"You asked Laufey's leave even though you didn't need it?" Fandral murmured.

She shrugged. "It was only polite. Now be kind enough to take me to my cousin. His time must be growing short."

Sif bit her tongue against bitter words regarding said cousin and rode with them back to the healing rooms in silence. At Loki's bedside, Frigga leapt to her feet as Frey and Gerd entered, but among the healers, there was no alarm at the sight of the giantess. Eir in particular was eager to make way and observe. Sigyn stood at Frigga's elbow, both watching with wide eyes as the sorceress examined Loki.

Gerd began her work without asking leave, but even Frigga did not try to stop or question her. Given the look of Loki, Sif could well imagine their reasoning: the worst that could happen was the patient could die, and if they did nothing, that would be inevitable. He looked entirely frost giant now, but not a healthy one, his skin a sickly gray, thin over the bones of his face, eyes sunken. He did not stir as the air around him shimmered green-gold with magic. It seemed that whether wielded by Aesir healers, Jotunn sorcerers, or Loki himself, magic looked the same.

Sif wasn't certain what to expect, but supposed there might be pain involved, and braced herself to hear Loki cry out. He did, and Frigga flinched, but let Sigyn draw her back rather than interfere. By then, however, they could all see the changes in the color of his skin, returning to deep Jotunn blue. The black lines retreated, and he began shifting and pulling away. "Hold him," Gerd ordered, and Eir and the healers moved at once to obey.

A ball of green-gold light, swirling with oily black smoke formed above Loki's left arm as the magician worked. Within the hour, it was clear that success was close, and Loki's eyes were fluttering. The queen began to breathe more easily and tore her gaze from him to take her bearings... and then she frowned.

"Where is Thor?"

_Oh no... _Sif cringed in unison with the Warriors Three. Frigga went white, and Volstagg murmured, "My queen... he remains in Jotunheim."

Movement from the bed prevented further painful questions; Loki had awakened. He blinked, groggy, took in his surroundings - and went rigid at the sight of the giantess beside him. "Who are you?!" he croaked.

Taking the ball of cursed magic and crushing it in her hands, she replied, "Gerd of Jotunheim, kinsman."

He might have thrown himself from the bed again if Eir hadn't caught him. "Get away from me!"

Everyone winced. "Ai, how very awkward!" murmured Frey.

But the sorceress just snorted, rising to her feet. "You're welcome." To Eir, she announced, "It is done. I advise that he rest further, but there should be no barrier to healing entirely now." Even as she spoke, Loki was resuming his normal coloring - or rather, his Aesir coloring - though even that glamor didn't hide the circles around his eyes. Gerd gave him a scornful look, then asked the room in general, "I trust there is no objection to my departing now?"

Without waiting for an answer, she strode out the door. Frigga looked at Loki for a moment, then ran after her.

_To be continued..._

**_Coming Next Weekend: _**_Gerd of Jotunheim is having none of your shenanigans! A less-than-friendly chat ensues between Loki's blood and adoptive family, Loki begins learning what has gone on while he was out of action, and the tensions between Asgard and Jotunheim are far from relieved. (Since mid-week is Christmas, I will probably not update until closer to Saturday.)_

_A little mythology note: This fic remains Gen, but one of the supporting characters just met the love of his life! Anybody catch it? This was my little spin on it, since I like it far better than the actual Norse legends, in which "courting" translates as bribes, followed by threats. No actual romancing goes on between said characters in this story (well, maybe behind the scenes if you squint). _

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! (Oh, and Happy Holidays!)**


	7. Chapter 6

_**Author's Notes: **__Hope everyone had a great holiday week and thank you all many times for the reviews. Kudos to all who caught the mythology tidbit in the last chapter - Gerd is the love of Frey's life. Granted, in the myths, the man doesn't bother to meet her before sending a servant to bribe and then threaten her into marrying him - I like this better. This story is gen and so won't go into their relationship much, but we can assume they're making eyes at each other in the background. The plot of this story has her a cousin of the queen and a sorceress, where the myths don't tell us much except that she's the daughter of a wealthy, noble giant and really, really attractive._

**Chapter Six**

"Lady Gerd! Wait!" Frigga dared to catch the volva by the elbow. "My son was disoriented. Let his mother pay tribute properly - "

"_His_ mother?!" For a moment, the contempt in the other woman's voice was confusing… then the facts sank in, and Frigga felt blood rush to her face. Gerd glanced at Frey and the Aesir who had followed them, and made no effort to lower her voice. "His mother was Nál, queen of Jotunheim and first among healers, who perished among the Volur trying to shield our healing rooms when Utgard fell. And no doubt if she herself had been here, he would have been as repulsed by her as he is by me thanks to the teachings of the Aesir!"

"You speak to the queen of Asgard!" Fandral began hotly, but Frigga raised a hand for silence.

_She charges me justly. If not with corruption than at least with complacence. _Frigga sighed and did not flinch from Gerd's hot stare. The words stung, but they were not untrue, and perhaps it was high time the queen of Asgard faced the ugliness of her own role in these events. _I asked Odin to be honest. He forbade me to speak of it. _But he had not forbidden her to speak kindly of Jotunheim, or to counter the ugly tales of Jotnar monsters, even the ones she knew full well were gross distortions.

So she drew herself up and made her confession: "You are correct. I took possession of the child of another realm, and gave no thought to honor she who gave him life, and made no protest when he was taught to hate his mother race." _Now he is revealed to be Jotunn, and the best reaction he can hope for from we who raised him is indifference, as though it is some inherent fault. _She knew it was untrue. Before her stood living proof. Yet she had stood silent to the slander. _So I must be counted no less guilty. _"I owe you tribute for more than Loki's life. I am among those who have wronged your family and your people. Let me begin to pay that debt and beg your forgiveness."

Gerd would be well within her rights to scorn both. But she did not. Her stance softened, and she observed, "You do love him."

"I have always loved him." In that one point, she could have some pride. _Not in my actions, no, but in my heart, I've loved him utterly._ "I may not be his mother by blood, but he is my son in my heart."

The faint snort in response… reminded her of Loki, as did the quirky half-smile. "I suppose that's something." She declined Frigga's attempts to shower her in riches. "I have no lack of gold, Lady Queen."

Frustrated, Frigga escorted her to the Bifrost, but finally had a servant bring her a single cup of crystal from Fensalir, and announced, "Know this, then, Gerd, daughter of Gymir: Asgard is in your debt, and you will always be welcome in the halls of Frigga. If ever you are in need of a boon in your turn, you have only to ask, and I shall grant you all that is in my power." Very much aware of the councilors and courtiers now in witness, she bowed low to the giantess.

Both this gift and the gesture, Gerd accepted, and was taking her leave when shouts rang out. Frigga's heart all but stopped at the sight of Gungnir, but then it soared, for the spear was not in the hands of Odin, but Loki. Clad now in his regalia and helm, he looked every inch the son of Odin he'd been raised to be. Many of the nobles were drawing back, stunned and scandalized, but at Loki's heels were Ullr and Tyr. It was obvious who had insisted that the official line of succession be upheld.

There was no sign in Loki's face or stance that he had been at death's door less than an hour before, but Frigga knew that was due to the artifice of magic, not the actual speed of healing. But this was no time to fret about his well-being. The test was upon him, and she could only pray he would acquit himself better than the courtiers had in Odin's absence. _Make your father proud, _she willed.

Sif was among those who scowled, but upon receipt of an elbow in the ribs from Fandral, she dropped to one knee and paid tribute. The rest of Odin's court gradually followed suit, and Frigga took note of those who hesitated the longest.

"So, Gerd of Jotunheim, I am informed that I owe you a life debt." Loki measured his cousin with his eyes, betraying none of the horror he'd shown in the healing rooms. "What may the king of Asgard offer in return for such a service?"

Gerd inclined her head. Sarcastically. "My lord Loki is most gracious, but no fee is due, for your elder brother has paid in advance for our magic."

"What?" Half the court chorused.

Now the admiration in Gerd's voice did not seem feigned. "Thor Odinson has averted war between our realms by offer of his own life. What fate Laufey decreed for him, I don't know, but the quarrel he began is satisfied."

Frigga surreptitiously steadied herself on the wall. _Thor... _Without even the strength of the Aesir, alone in Jotunheim... that was what Sif and the Warriors Three had so feared to tell her.

Even through the glamor, Loki went pale. "And still mortal?" The Warriors Three nodded. "Laufey accepted?"

"He did," said Gerd. "Peace is assured with his life."

Loki closed his eyes briefly, then lifted his chin. "So be it."

"Loki!" Frigga blurted. _No... _

"You can't just leave him there!" Volstagg exploded.

"Thor began this conflict," Loki shot back. "And finished it with the only price he was at liberty to pay. The realm must have consistency, and we can't risk losing the peace that has only just been salvaged!" He jerked his head at Frey and Gerd and stalked towards the stables.

Frigga was torn between running after him to beg and sinking to the ground in despair. How long would Thor live? _If he's not dead already_.

She was too caught up in her own turmoil to notice Sigyn, who slipped through the dazed courtiers and caught up with the king regent and his guests. But Loki did pause to acknowledge her, then frowned as she whispered something. "What?" She tugged him away from Gerd and Frey, who were too deep in their own conversation to notice, and murmured to Loki too softly for Frigga to hear. Whatever she said left him shocked. "That was real?" he asked.

Sigyn nodded and dared a step closer, all but whispering in his ear. And across the grounds, over Sigyn's shoulder, Loki's eyes met Frigga's.

His illusion wavered, and instead of the proud, indifferent king, he was her weary boy again, still exhausted and drained after sinking to the edge of death, shaken to the bottom of his soul by the lies that he'd been told all his life. _Blame us for that, _she pleaded in her mind. _It wasn't Thor who deceived you. _

When his jaw tightened, she feared she'd lost him, but then he looked down at Sigyn. And in a flash of movement, he seized her hand and kissed it, then whirled to leap onto the nearest horse and took off for the Bifrost at a gallop.

* * *

It was so cold. Thor hadn't known it was possible to be this cold. To his shame, he could no longer pretend he didn't feel it, couldn't hide the tremors that shook his entire frame, and nor cease stumbling as he walked. From the Bifrost site, the triumphant Laufey was marching him to... somewhere, not that he'd shared his intentions with Thor. But Thor wasn't the only one starting to question whether they would even get that to that destination.

"My lord king, the prisoner is human for all practical purposes," he heard a guard saying as he struggled to keep his feet. At least the movement kept his blood flowing. "He will not last."

Looking over his shoulder at the erstwhile son of Odin, Laufey didn't mock him, though he didn't stop his warriors from doing so. "So even a few leagues is beyond you now."

"Are we to warm him?"

"The king's halls might be made hospitable for a mortal."

Thor met Laufey's red gaze and said nothing. He'd been prepared to beg for Loki. For himself, no. _Perhaps I don't deserve it anyway. _He only wished he could know whether the magician had been successful and his brother would live. Then, let him live or die here, and he would accept either with a glad heart.

Laufey approached and gave Thor only the lightest shove, but it had the effect of unbalancing him so that he fell to the snow in a heap. "Your life is forfeit, son of Odin. It's a mercy you do not deserve to have it end so quietly. No warrior's glory remains to you."

"Shiver your last, little princess," someone rumbled, and the giants laughed. Thor contemplated spitting at them, but he was shaking too hard to even look in their direction.

Laufey crouched next to him. "It's said Allfather can see and hear all from his golden throne. I hope it's true. So that he may know his firstborn's death came at the feet of Laufey."

_Forgive me, Father. _Was the cold easing? Or perhaps it was just the heavy exhaustion seeping into his mortal body like the creeping ice of Jotunheim. Then he shook still harder - or was it the ground shaking? There was light before his eyes, and he thought he heard shouts -

Heat rushed through him like a flood with a great beam of light. It hurt; he cried out in shock and blinked through the glare to see a figure in green and gold, Gungnir brought to bear before him. "And yours comes from the son of Odin."

"Loki, no!" shouted someone, but Laufey and his giants were already leaping to challenge him.

Was this a dream? Thor found himself in the grasp of Sif and Volstagg, seeing Loki battling Laufey and his warriors with the spear of Odin. "Still you rush to do the bidding of the Aesir?" Laufey spat.

The look in his brother's eyes terrified Thor. Loki knew now; someone must have told him, but that had not inclined him towards peace. Just the opposite. Thor struggled to right himself against his failing mortal body as Loki snarled, "You think I mean to acknowledge you and your race of monsters? You may be settled with my brother but not with me!"

Loki had never been one for battle rage, and Thor had thought it a failing. But now it was finally upon him... and Thor would gladly have gone the rest of his life without seeing it. "_Some of us do battle, others just do tricks._"Now Loki was wielding both, and Thor had no strength to stop him or even call out a plea. How useless he was.

Someone knelt in front of him, and he flinched as blue frost giant hands tugged at his face. "You must get him back to Asgard," said a woman's voice. "He'll die if he stays here."

"No," Thor rasped, feeling someone lifting him. "Loki, no - "

"Loki, ENOUGH!" It was Frey, trying to intervene, but Loki seemed beyond reason. Thor had no idea what had passed in Asgard, but feared his brother would not stop until he'd restarted hostilities himself. He was deaf to the very warnings he'd once given Thor: outnumbered and outflanked by the frost giants.

With Gungnir in his hands, he fought Laufey to the ground, laughing wildly. "Monsters," he hissed. "The lot of you, witless brutes! It never did occur to you that path was a trap, did it? You fell right into it! I'm only sorry the king was too cowardly to lead his raiders himself!"

He hurled Laufey against a rock and poised Gungnir for a killing blow, only to be caught from behind by another giant. Thor struggled in vain against his friends who were trying to drag him back to the Bifrost. Only hours before, Loki'd been dying of Jotnar poison - had the giantess healed him only for him to be slain now?

Laufey rose again as three of his warriors pinned Loki down and Thor shouted denial. He wrapped a hand around Loki's throat, and instead of ice burns, blue swept up Loki's face. Then it was a Jotunn who lay trapped beneath his captors.

_Oh Loki. _Thor remembered how afraid he'd been, how desperate to hide it. Now exposed before all of Jotunheim and... his father. His blood father.

Laufey sneered, only to have Loki spit in his face, and then backhanded him. Seizing a fistful of black hair, he conjured a blade of ice in his hand. "NO!" Thor cried.

"If I'd known the usurper thought to rear you," he growled, his face inches from Loki's. "I'd have killed you myself then."

But a bolt of green-gold magic shattered the blade before he could bring it down. "STOP!" It was the giantess who'd gone to Loki's aid. Peering past Volstagg and Hogun, Thor saw more Jotunn women approaching. These had to be the Volur of Jotunheim, and even the warriors stepped aside for them. "Are the fathers and sons of the realm determined to war whatever the cost?"

Laufey sprang upright with a growl. "You defy your king, Gymirsdottir?"

She didn't falter. "I have already claimed the kin-right of mercy, in the name of the _queen_."

Laufey blinked. Writhing on the ground, Loki snarled, "I don't want your mercy!"

"Of course you don't." She looked over her shoulder at the Asgardians. "Take these boys home. No war should begin for such an infantile squabble as this."

Loki struggled as Frey and Hogun hauled him up, but Thor was just relieved to see his brother escape with his life. He couldn't even spare the sense of shame at being carried back to the Bifrost site, and drifted in and out of awareness with Sif hissing at him to stay awake.

Then the Bifrost rushed in a rainbow flood around him, and he fell to the Observatory floor, and he was _warm_ again. Gasping in relief, trying to make his limbs move properly, he fell out of Volstagg's arms and reached for his brother, who was cursing as he lay prone and humiliated nearby.

Someone got in the way, and Thor made to shove them aside - only to find himself staring at Odin. "Father?" he breathed.

Odin cupped his face in dismay, taking in the flesh streaked red with wind and ice burns, the strength nearly spent. Then he looked at Loki. Heimdall stooped to take Gungnir where it lay. Odin looked at Frey and Thor's friends. "Out. All of you." They went.

Loki burst out, "I could've done it, Father! I could've done it! For you! For all of us!"

"No, Loki," Odin said quietly.

The look on his brother's face all but cracked Thor's heart. He struggled past the Allfather to Loki's side, but had no strength to do more than drape an arm over him protectively. Loki had gone limp. The glamor failed again, and it was a face with blue skin and red eyes that stared dully at him. "You're still my brother," Thor whispered, and stroked his fingertips over the patterns on Loki's forehead.

Loki tried to pull away. "'m not your brother," he muttered, bitter and hopeless. "I never was."

"Liar." His frostbitten hands barely worked, but he managed to catch a fistful of Loki's cloak and refused to let go.

From somewhere behind them, Odin sighed, "What am I to do with the two of you?"

"Kill me," Loki murmured, shutting his eyes.

"No!" Thor pulled closer to him. "Allfather, do whatever you wish, but don't take him! Please, not - not again." The world was hazy again, and he was afraid. If he slept, he could not hold on any longer, and Loki would be torn from him. _Anything but that. I thought I'd killed him, please, don't take him!_ _It was my fault, don't you understand, it was my fault!_

"They both need a healer," he heard Heimdall saying. And that was the last thing he heard.

_To be continued..._

**_Coming_**_** mid-week**__: Odin is going to wish he'd stayed in the Odinsleep as he discovers the fallout from his sons' escapades - and his own role in bringing it about. The first of many unpleasant conversations takes place. _

**Please don't forget to review!**


	8. Chapter 7

**_Author's Notes:_**_ Happy New Year to all, and thank you for all the great reviews! Alas, now that the holidays are over and work is heating up, I'm going to update every Saturday - sorry I can't maintain the mid-week updates. But since this story is fully drafted, I can promise the weekly updates will be on time (barring an emergency, of course)._

**Chapter Seven**

Frigga was waiting when Thor and Loki were brought to the healing rooms. "What happened?" she demanded of her newly-awakened husband.

Odin raised a hand as if to bid her depart, and she all but snarled at him. _Don't you dare. _He sighed and lowered his hand again. "It seems now both my sons have defied me in their lust to battle Jotunheim. Neither one is worthy of the throne."

_Are either of their parents worthy of them? _Frigga stalked past him to watch the healers' work. Both boys were unconscious again. Thor was half-frozen; she hissed over the burns on his face and neck. Loki hadn't had the sense not to charge immediately into a fight, and he'd taken a beating from the giants. At least they were both breathing and had escaped poison darts this time. "So is war upon us again?" she sighed.

"No, my lady," said Frey.

Frigga looked up. Odin looked as surprised to hear that as she was. Fandral scrubbed at his face, still reddened by the cold. "So he did let us go, I didn't imagine that."

"The volva, Gerd, intervened," Sif explained. "She was supported by the other Volur of Jotunheim against war. They called for mercy when Loki was beaten, and... it seems Laufey did relent."

Frey nodded. "Satisfaction is owed still, but vengeance in battle is relinquished. The Volur wield no less influence in Jotunheim than in Asgard or Alfheim, and Gerd Gymirsdottir is heiress to one of the noblest houses. She proclaimed mercy by right, as the last kinswoman to Laufey's late queen."

Heavy silence fell as everyone tried not to watch too obviously for Odin's reaction. He betrayed nothing of his heart. "Lord Frey, you have my thanks for your aid in this sorry hour, and you shall be rewarded well for it. If you will, I would engage your talents one last time so we may determine where relations between the realms now stand, in a less ill-tempered moment." Frey bowed - acquiescing more eagerly than Frigga had expected. "Those not in need of the healers' aid have no reason to linger here," Odin went on with a scowl, and there was a mad scramble for the doors. To Eir, he ordered, "When my sons are healed sufficiently, summon me."

Frigga cast an assessing glance over the boys, finding neither seeming to be in danger. Then she hurried after her husband. "Allfather!"

"My queen, I - "

She simply put herself in his path. _Not this time, my lord. _"I would speak to you," she said in a low, measured voice. Odin considered her stance, and she added, "It concerns the Lady Gerd." That piqued his interest where a mother's distress for her sons did not, and he let himself be drawn from his path towards the great hall. Once they were in her chambers, Frigga told him, "In addition to the debt we owe for her assistance, she revealed to me a grievance."

Odin nodded. "Over Loki, I take it? Would she have raised the child?"

"Perhaps. But her outrage arises from Loki's reaction to her and all of his mother race. Our taking him might be deemed mercy, but how are we to justify his view of them as monsters? How can we explain it to him now, let alone his Jotnar kin?"

Odin sighed heavily, more concerned with "greater matters," as usual. Frigga had no intention of allowing it. "I have never taken part in those ridiculous tales, wife, and nor did you - "

"But neither one of us said a word against it!"

"Frigga, this is NOT the time!"

"WHEN IS IT?" she shouted. "Are you his father or are you not? Are you the king or are you not?" He bared his teeth at her, but she forged on. "Who is to halt the bad blood and foul words but you and I? You banished Thor for forgetting all you taught him, and I can see you mean none less for his brother - why should they believe a word you taught them when you don't abide by it yourself!" She spun away to catch her breath and not show the weakness of tears. And her senses held on to one faint sign of hope: Odin did not seize the chance to storm out.

"Frigga." He actually came closer. "It's not your fault."

The gentleness in his voice, such as he so rarely showed in public or even in private, nearly undid her. But she could not allow it now. She brushed a quick hand across her face and turned back to him. "Yes, it is," she said roughly. "As it is yours. You and I alone knew what he was. Not only did we lie to him, but we let him be taught disgust for his birth race and never spoke a word against it. This 'sorry hour' is the result." She looked him in the eye and murmured, "He believes you favored Thor because you would never have a frost giant upon Hliðskjálf." Odin opened his mouth to deny it... and hesitated for an instant too long. Now Frigga looked away. "It was Loki who showed the Jotnar the path into the vault."

There. Now she had dutifully reported the treason and probably ended what compassion he'd begun to show. But to her surprise, Odin did not revert to rage. Quietly, he asked, "Did he say why?"

"Not coherently. He feared Thor's unfitness and your unwillingness to see it. No doubt envy was part of it. He held far more resentment than we realized, and now believes his parentage is the reason Thor was favored." Tears escaped her eyes at the memory. "He confessed it to Thor."

Odin blinked. "When?'

"After I called Thor back. Not to reclaim the throne, but to see his brother in... in the end. Loki was terrified on him." Odin closed his eyes. "If he hadn't been so close to death, I wonder myself if Thor's reaction would have been different."

"You underestimate your eldest."

"Have you forgotten how this sorry hour began? Not just with frost giants in Asgard, but with foolish youths looking for trouble in Jotunheim." Frigga glared at him. "Never suggest I love either of my children less for acknowledging their faults. _Or_ my husband's." To Odin's credit, he did not deny it. She went on, "Loki told Thor, 'I never wanted a throne. I only wanted to be your equal.'"

"Any choice of Thor over Loki as heir was not due to his parentage," Odin began, but Frigga advanced.

"Do you _truly_ expect him to believe that, Odin Borson? Do you _truly_ believe that yourself?" They locked gazes for long moments... but in the end, it was Odin who looked down.

"Neither of them can go unpunished."

"I never asked that it be so." There was movement in the halls. The councilors would want to see the Allfather, the people needed reassurance that war was not imminent and Gungnir could be wielded again. She stepped back. "I'm well aware that you may order me parted from both of my sons for an indefinite time, and it may not be unjust. Only remember they've both already suffered for their own faults - and you and I still have our own atonement to make."

She let herself out of her chambers and returned to the healing rooms.

* * *

Maybe it had been a dream after all. He returned to awareness and the familiar sensation of someone stroking his hair. He felt far better than before, if only… he opened his eyes to meet Frigga's. "I could've done it," he croaked.

"Done what?"

Was she feigning ignorance? Could she understand? "I'd have destroyed him," he insisted. "All of them, that entire race of monsters. I'd have proven I was Odin's son..."

Her face fell, and his heart sank with it. Of course, she didn't believe him. Why should she? He'd failed, and that freakish beast had beaten him even with Gungnir in his hands. He'd been spared, to his utter shame, at the word of the Jotnar witches. Had the bitch realized that it was no mercy, only greater humiliation? Quite possibly. He'd failed in his chance to disprove the taint of their blood, and now he had nothing left.

Why did Frigga still soothe him? She should be disgusted. But all she did was whisper, "That was not the answer, dearest."

"Then what was?!" He couldn't keep the desperation from his voice. Frigga hesitated, then a groan from nearby caught both of their attention. Loki turned to see Thor occupying the second bed. For a few moments, Loki forgot his own predicament and sat up, taking in Thor's condition. The warm light of the healing rooms and their spells cast a new, hard clarity on how close to death he'd been. All the skin that had been exposed in Jotunheim was still seared red, deeply bruised where the giants had struck him. Loki pointed out, "Laufey meant to kill him. He was dying at the monsters' feet, and they showed him no mercy!"

"I know," Frigga whispered. There were tears in her voice, but she made no attempt to reassure him that he'd been justified.

_Not even for your precious firstborn, then? What is this new-found love for the frost giants?_ And did even that not extend to him - _no. If that is what it takes to be of concern, I don't want it. _

_"_You should rest, my prince," said a familiar voice. Loki huffed out a sigh and hurled himself back onto the pallet. He might as well simply wait for whatever Asgard and Odin had in store for him now. There was no point in exerting himself to prove anything anymore.

The sight of Sigyn made him remember. "It _was_ him!" he blurted aloud.

Arms holding him against a muscled chest, tear-filled eyes and a voice strained with weeping. _"I don't care what blood you are! You're my brother._"

No, no, surely it had been a dream. A hallucination of fever and poison. But Sigyn straightened as she finished administering a spell on Thor and looked from him to Loki. "I told you: he bade me repeat it when you were awake, and tell you he swore it true upon his life and his name. Then he departed for Jotunheim and gave the one possession he had left to trade for your life: his own."

Loki stared at her, then looked at Thor. "And he... knew?"

"I told him myself upon his return to Asgard," said Frigga. "That you were our fosterling and born of Jotunheim. I asked him if that truth lessened your worth to him, and he took offense. He wanted only to be at your side, Loki. I know you remember him holding you. And by that point, your face was Jotunn."

But the thought sickened him, and he turned away from all of them. "I'm a traitor, my lady queen. Let the Allfather put me to death for it; I'd rather die an Asgardian than live a monster."

* * *

Upon Hliðskjálf, his gaze reaching through Asgard and beyond, Odin fought despair. With an effort, he turned his attention from the healing rooms to Heimdall's messenger. "Lord Frey and Lady Skadi request your presence in the observatory. Jotunn ambassadors have come."

It was no surprise to find that one of the two delegates was Gerd Gymirsdottir. In fact, both appeared to be Volur. "Hyndla, daughter of Vasad. Appointed emissary of Laufey Farbautison, king of Jotunheim," said the other formally.

Odin nodded. "My lady ambassadors, you are bid welcome to Asgard. I offer you the hospitality of my halls and my protection as guests."

Gerd's lips thinned in a wry twist. "We bear only a message for Odin Allfather from our king."

_So no hospitality. I suppose it's a concession that he sends emissaries and not assassins. _"Speak, then."

"Laufey of Jotunheim denounces Asgard's encroachments into his sovereign realm. Now twice the sons of Odin have brought unprovoked violence upon us and cost many lives. By rights, the invaders' lives are forfeit." Odin gritted his teeth and waited. Hyndla went on, "However, for the sake of the innocent of all realms, the Volur of Jotunheim have called upon Laufey king to forgive these insults and shed no further blood. As bounty for a restored peace, Laufey Farbautison demands the return of the heart of Jotunheim, the Casket of Ancient Winters, to its rightful place in its rightful realm, and declares what pretense of peace for which it was taken is disproven by these events."

Of course, they knew Odin would not agree. However, a handsome bounty was called for, given the severity of Thor and Loki's actions in Jotunheim. _Extremely_ handsome, to permit Laufey to both retreat from his stance of war and from his latest demand for the Casket and still save face to his people. If their positions were reversed, Odin would expect no less.

"As Laufey well knows, the Casket remains a spoil of war in which Jotunheim invaded more than one sovereign realm. My sons acted without the authority of their king and have been punished accordingly."

Gerd's ruby eyes narrowed. "Odin's sons were spared, unlike the seventy-nine Jotnar warriors who perished in these attacks, defending their king upon their own land."

"Odin King of Asgard acknowledges a great wrong is done, and does indeed beg the pardon of Laufey of Jotunheim." They blinked at that. Proud Skadi was less than pleased to see her king take such a position, but behind her at his post, Heimdall gave the faintest nod. "He thanks the Volur of Jotunheim and their king for recognition of this truth: further blood will not restore what is already spilled."

He did not need long to consider the matter, to recall what gifts had appeased insults and averted vengeance in the past, and what would manage to salvage Asgard some pride – in generosity and atonement, if not in the underlying grievance. "I propose this recompense: Asgard shall make tribute of the weight in gold of every warrior who perished to Laufey. To each widow, each child, and each parent of a slain warrior, we shall furnish his weight in silver."

Neither volva betrayed a reaction to the offer, though it was drastic even to a wealthy realm such as Asgard. Once they departed through the Bifrost to relay the offer to Laufey, Frey urged Odin, "Wait. They won't be long."

"Your impressions, Lord Frey?"

"Laufey is weary of war, like many who recall the last one. His quarrel with you runs deep, Allfather, but he maintains the wisdom to see that it is not worth more blood. But for you personally, it runs deeper than ever."

Skadi discreetly stepped away from them, though Heimdall didn't bother to pretend he wasn't listening. Odin gazed out at the stars. "The child was his, then?"

Frey nodded. "He had a mind to keep it." Odin shot him an incredulous look. "Such are the choices in wartime. His queen was dead among many of the Volur; nurses were spared only for warrior babes. An infant with the strength to survive hours of cold would be deemed fit to raise and train. The weak ones would be consigned to the gods."

"A vile excuse," Odin muttered, turning away.

Frey's quiet warning brought him up sharp. "Then toil well to prevent further war, Borson, for in a realm facing conquest, starving in its remaining strongholds, bleeding all remaining life, such 'excuses' may become necessity to preserve what is left." Odin turned back and stared at the Vanir.

Frey was his age, and like Odin, had been a young commander during the war between Asgard and Vanaheim, as well as one of those who worked to establish the peace. Asgard and Vanaheim had both sustained great loss of life and lands and damage to their halls, but as far as Odin recalled, the extremities Frey spoke of had never come upon Asgard. He realized with a twinge of shame that he did not know - and had never asked – how bad life at home had been for Vanaheim.

_"The horror and desolation of war." _Odin had been younger than Thor then, full of passion and pride, and at his best in the field and the generals' tents. Reports of the suffering of their people had come in, of course, but he had always been at a remove from it, as a warrior and as a son of the king. He'd spared little concern for the innocents of Vanaheim. They were the enemy, after all. _I told Thor he'd forgotten everything I taught him. Perhaps it was I who taught him the wrong lessons. _

Thor and Loki were not without compassion; both had stayed their hands before to protect the innocent - when such innocents were directly before them, cowering and helpless. But apart from that, the women and children and elders in danger were at a remove from battle, little more than an abstract idea in the back of a warrior's frenzied mind. Had either of Odin's sons ever truly understood all that was at risk in a conflict?

Had Odin himself ever truly understood it?

He was forced to turn his mind from those thoughts when Heimdall reopened the Bifrost in response to the call from Jotunheim. The two Volur returned, now accompanied by a Jotunn warrior. Odin cast a measuring gaze over the towering man, and recognized something in his features... and felt a chill that came entire from within himself.

"Odin Allfather, this is Helblindi, son of Laufey and prince of Jotunheim." Odin nodded acknowledgement, glad he did not have to speak just now. This one looked more like Laufey; he was the usual massive height of the frost giant warriors, his head and shoulders armored with strong, dark ridges of bone. His face was very much Laufey's, there was little resemblance at all to his broth...

Odin wrenched his thoughts away from that tack. Next to Laufey's son, Gerd was watching him closely. "Allfather. Laufey of Jotunheim accepts your proposal."

There was a very soft sound in the quiet observatory as Skadi let her breath out. Odin lowered Gungnir before him to the Jotunn prince, who bowed in return. "Before these witnesses of Asgard, of Jotunheim, and Alfheim, let it be done, and peace restored. Asgard's tribute and restitution shall be delivered to you within three days." He was about to mention that most of it would come from the coffers of the individual wrongdoers, but decided against it. He did not want to mention Loki in Jotnar hearing any more than absolutely necessary.

But when Helblindi Laufeyson departed, Odin was not free to breathe easily, for the Volur lingered. "My ladies?"

"The matters of state between Asgard and Jotunheim are thus settled for the time being," said Gerd. "But there remains a grievance that can be amended with neither blood nor coin, Odin King."

He sighed inwardly. "So my queen has relayed to me. If you would say more, I will hear you."

Hyndla shifted on her feet, making Odin wonder if Gerd had leave from the Volur elders to make this complaint, or if it came from her heart alone. "Helblindi is the second son of Laufey King. His crown prince is Byleister. Both are his sons by Nál, late queen of Jotunheim." She let that sink in, a challenge in her eyes.

Loki's blood brothers_. If Laufey wanted to keep him, he should have kept him, _a defensive voice snarled within Odin. _What manner of test is it to leave a baby alone on a frozen rock?! What right has he to complain?_

Gerd went on, "Does Asgard mean to seek greater peace with Jotunheim, beyond a truce of mutual suspicion?"

Puzzled, Odin still needed little time to determine his answer. "Yes, if Jotunheim will entertain it. That has always been my desire."

But it seemed he'd given the volva her opening. "And yet even as I healed him, _my _queen's youngest son recoiled in horror. 'A race of monsters,' he calls us. You speak of a desire for peace, you would have us believe you took one of our children for mercy, but he has been raised to despise us all, and your blood prince is no better. What hope is there of peace when your own youth think us so vile?"

Odin did not answer her, for he had no answer to give. She knew that, of course. "I demand no tribute or recompense for this slight, but wish only to speak it to the Allfather's face. No peace can be born of hate, and Asgard wrongs us still. You honor our warriors with silver and gold, but wrong our fallen queen with the contempt of her last child. Until all this is put right, your words remain empty."

Even as she bowed and bade him farewell, her disdain was clear. And Odin could not help but observe that she had the skill to convey her thoughts even without words… very much like Loki.

It was a long, silent ride back to Hliðskjálf. Odin bade Skadi report the truce and settlement to the scribes, and ordered the tribute of gold and silver assembled. For Frey, he commissioned a number of handsome gifts - in addition to the ones he knew Frigga was preparing.

There would be much feasting in the realm now, for the rest of Asgard was reassured and relieved, and such a truce should be celebrated. The king held Gungnir again, war was averted, and no further lives would be lost. But of all the words that had been spoken today, it was Loki's that rang over and over in Odin's head. _"I'd rather die an Asgardian than live a monster."_

Odin could not remain blind to the truth: Frigga was right. Gerd of Jotunheim was right. In trying to protect the boy he'd taken in from that truth, Odin had very possibly destroyed him.

_What have I done? And what am I to do now? _

_To be continued..._

**_Coming Next Weekend:_**_ Asgardians eat crow (figuratively, anyway) as Odin uses the throne of Asgard to see not across the universe, but trouble closer to home... and Thor and Loki finally have their fully-conscious confrontation. Take cover, ladies and gentlemen, this is not going to be pretty!_

**Please don't forget to review!**


	9. Chapter 8

**_Author's Notes:_**_ Many thanks to everyone for all the great reviews! Please keep them coming!_

**Chapter Eight**

Frigga no longer left the healing room while her sons were recovering, but few in Asgard would have suspected that Odin Allfather's gaze was often turned to the place as well.

Neither of his sons had ever been the healers' favorite patients, but both were healing well. Physically, anyway. Despondent and embittered even when Thor was asleep, Loki refused to eat until Eir threatened him with force. Thor's every waking involved the same process - panic that Loki would not be there. It did not help his mood that Loki would not speak to him. Loki feigned sleep the instant Thor showed signs of waking, and Frigga and the healers had to cajole and threaten Thor back to bed.

Odin quietly commanded both of his sons confined to the healing rooms until Eir determined them fit again, and forbade visitors apart from Frigga. Difficult for Thor's friends, especially Sif and the Warriors Three.

There were no visitors making inquiries about Loki. A few of Thor's friends did ask after him, and greeted the news of his improvement with neutral observations of relief for Thor's sake. Odin wearily observed that this did not surprise Frigga at all, and knew it to be a failing on his own part that he was surprised.

Preventing him from feeling utter despair for the boy was Sigyn. It was clear that her concern for Loki was neither confined to healer's duty nor afterthought. And she was not put off by his petulance.

On the second day, Thor was still asleep as the spells did their work to heal his frost burns, and Frigga had dozed off in her chair. Along with breakfast, Sigyn brought Loki a book. "Why are you being so sweet?" he muttered as he ate.

"You complained of being bored." She set it on the table beside him. "You once told me the dwarf tales made you laugh no matter how foul your mood."

"What does my mood matter to you?"

"Am I not your friend?"

For an instant, Loki faltered. Perhaps it was just long enough for Sigyn to see through his cold mask of indifference, and the dismissive tone of his question. "You'd lower yourself to declaring friendship with a frost giant?"

Sigyn held his gaze. "I have never been ashamed to be a friend of Loki, and see no reason to start."

At first he didn't answer, but as she stood to leave, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She sat again. "The Allfather will punish you as he sees fit for your actions. Why do so yourself as well?"

Loki shrugged. "Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, it's redundant."

Loki burst out laughing. A sigh from Thor brought that fragile peace to an end. "I feared I would never hear you laugh again," he observed from his bed without opening his eyes.

Loki stiffened. Sigyn looked from him to Thor, then stood quickly. "You don't have to go," Loki muttered.

"I think I do," she replied. Frigga too stood and made for the door without a word, demonstrating that Thor hadn't been the only one dissembling at sleep. Thor sat up, nodding to the women as they left, then looked at his brother.

"Will you finally talk with me?"

Loki stared at the bedclothes. Odin could see him trembling, and knew Thor could as well.

"Brother, whatever I've done to wrong you - "

Loki's mood snapped from dismal to furious, and he snarled, eyes blazing. "Of course, you haven't the _faintest _idea!"

"No, I haven't!" Thor retorted, his own frustration near its limits. "So I'll apologize for lacking your wits to begin with, but it would be a courtesy to tell me what it is you want satisfaction for!" He sighed and scrubbed at his face, wincing from the sensitive burns. "I know your wound was my fault, along with... everything that happened since." Loki looked away. "You are still my brother."

"How very charitable of you."

"No more than Lady Sigyn. I'm proud to be your brother still as she is to be your friend."

But Loki scoffed. "Please, you weren't proud of me even when you thought I _was_ your blood!"

"That's not tr - " Thor broke off and cringed, shutting his eyes. Loki watched in surprise. "I'm sorry. I was wrong - about many things. I thought I was ready. Father said it, his councilors agreed, and I never questioned it."

"He was a fool to think so."

"Is that why you let the frost giants into the vault?"

Loki shrugged, sprawling back on his bed as if unconcerned. Not long ago, Odin would have taken such a pose at its face value, and suspected Thor would have as well. Now he looked through it to the tight set of the jaw, the clenched fists, and eyes red from more than just weariness. Thor likewise studied his brother and waited for his answer.

"More or less. That and a bit of fun, just to see if they'd fall for it. Anyone with wits would smell a trap. Dullards, they didn't devote any more thought to planning than you did." Thor grimaced, but didn't deny it. "I knew if I prodded you enough you'd take it into your head to try to confront Laufey, but we were never supposed to get there. That damn idiot guard was supposed to tell Odin at once."

"Have you been undermining me in everything I do?!" Thor demanded.

He betrayed more hurt than he would have done in the past, and Loki sat up and fired back, "How else was I supposed to keep you from getting yourself and all your hangers-on killed every other Norn-damned day?! The only way you ever tried to resolve anything was with your fists or your damned hammer, and you never fucking LISTENED to me!"

"MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE TRIED TALKING TO ME!" Thor exploded.

"WHAT THE HELL MAKES YOU THINK I DIDN'T!?"

_And, _they went for each other. But Thor was still mortal and wounded besides, and Loki still not back to strength, and they both misjudged distance and momentum and wound up in a heap on the floor between their beds. Eir might have stormed back into the room then if Frigga hadn't prevented her, and Odin's sons were left to brawl or not undisturbed.

Luckily, the absurdity of it caught them both, as did the pain of falling, and first Loki, then Thor began to wearily laugh. Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder, and Loki did not shove him away as he gingerly pulled himself into a sitting position. Thor followed suit, rubbing his newly-added bruises, and gave Loki a sad, sheepish smile. "When did you stop trying to tell me?"

"I don't know, a long time ago." Thor huffed in frustration, and Loki narrowed his eyes. "The elves say the definition of lunacy is taking the same action over and over and expecting a different result. What was I supposed to do? Keep opening myself up to your mockery?"

Thor leaned back against his bed and looked away. "I am sorry, Loki." Now Loki looked away. "So it was not... the frost giants, it was not that you meant to supplant me? When you were... ill," he explained when Loki frowned. "You told me you never wanted the throne. Some had said your mischief was just envy."

"Who doesn't envy the sun when they spend all their life in the shadow?" Loki refused to look back at him. "I may be a trick-playing _ergi_ but I'm not an idiot." Thor opened his mouth to argue, then winced and closed it. Somehow, Loki sensed that without truly looking at him. "If you try to deny that now, I'll trounce you, mortal or not."

"I thought you disapproved of solving problems with your fists," Thor muttered, red-faced again.

"Well, it's the only method you appreciate." It was a weak laugh that followed. Both sounded more bitter than amused. After another long silence, Loki murmured, "I didn't know he'd banish you. I never meant for you to be hurt."

Thor sighed. "It didn't. Not the exile. Midgard was safe enough. It would have been fine if I'd not spent it all wondering what had become of you. Your hurts and mine were my fault, not yours. I won't let the Allfather blame you for everything."

He got a snort in response. "So noble and self-sacrificing. He'll be delighted. You'll be on the throne before you know it."

"I doubt it. The night before Frigga called me back to you, I found Mjolnir." That got Loki's full attention. "I can't even lift it. It may be some time before I'm worthy to call myself Aesir again, let alone fit to rule."

But Loki's shoulders hunched. "Maybe now we know the reason I made such a poor Aesir."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Doesn't mean it's not true." Loki dashed the back of his hand across his face. "Perhaps it's my turn to be exiled. Now that all Asgard knows my true parentage, he might be doing me a favor."

Thor brightened. "Perhaps this time we can be in Midgard together." Loki blinked, and he went on, "I made some friends there. You'd like them. The mortals are fine people - "

"Oh, _thank you_ for the generous offer!" Loki snapped, slamming his head back against the side of his mattress. "Let that be another entry in Thor Odinson's book of virtues, he invites me so graciously to trail along after him into exile and will even share the friends he made with me! Along with never being your equal, I can't even get off your damn leash!"

"That is NOT what I meant!" Thor exploded. "Why do you take everything I do and say as a slight?!"

"Because it never occurs to you that I might like to exist without you ruling my every move, waiting for whatever crumbs you throw to me! Even a king lets his subjects have some life of their own, and I may one day be your subject, but I'm NOT YOUR DAMNED PET!"

"So what do you WANT? Curse Yggdrasil to fire, Loki, what do you want from me?!"

Both of them breathed heavily, glowering at each other. Loki finally leaned back and muttered, "For a very long time, I lost hope that you'd ever ask me that. So thank you, I suppose."

Thor likewise dropped back against the edge of his bed, exhausted. "You may not remember, but I promised earlier to try and be a better brother. So I'll try to ask more often if that will please you. Loki, I never - truly, I never _meant_ to... be as you say. I'm not denying it. But I wasn't trying to wrong you."

"I know."

"We may neither of us have a choice in what follows here. We both defied Father, and he'll be the one to decide our fates. We may neither of us like it," Thor added, pulling a face. "If it makes you feel better, I'll offer to follow you around for a time." Loki glared, then saw his grin and fumbled around over his shoulder for a pillow to throw.

But before Thor could obtain his own ammunition, Eir and Frigga were marching back in. "That is quite enough, both of you."

"The healers don't gossip, but apparently they eavesdrop," Loki grumbled, but he and Thor returned to their beds.

Frigga rolled her eyes as Eir raised an eyebrow at him. "We did not need to; neither one of you bothered to lower your voice."

Loki shot Thor a skeptical look, making Thor quietly laugh. And Odin Allfather thought that perhaps the future no longer looked so bleak.

* * *

"Lady Sif?"

"Uh?" Sif jolted upright to find a crick in her neck and the arm she'd been resting on practically numb. Sigyn stepped away from her with a bemused smile.

"Have you been here long?"

Sif had dozed off at a little table in a supply room off the healing halls. She supposed this must look ridiculous. "I couldn't sleep," she explained awkwardly. It was true; she'd originally been accompanied by the Warriors Three and a number of Thor's other friends in visiting the healing room after their daily drills. Refused entry as usual, most of them had wandered off, and at nightfall, Eir had ordered all away. But Sif had found herself too anxious to rest, and wandered the halls in frustration before finally coming here.

"Thor is in no danger," Sigyn insisted. "He's much improved and may well be released soon."

"I know," Sif sighed, and rose to stretch her stiffened limbs. "That's not..." _That is not what I fear. _It was not Thor's life, nor his recovery for which she dreaded. When Eir pronounced him healed, there would be no barrier to the Allfather reinstating his banishment. Or worse. Could Sigyn or the other healers understand that? She considered the other woman, then observed: Sigyn looked quite weary herself. "How is Loki?"

"Also improving." Sigyn looked down, and Sif kicked herself. Perhaps here was one other who truly could understand. Thor's punishment for his actions had at least been pronounced and begun... the Allfather's decision as to what would become of Loki was yet to be made. Sigyn's next question confirmed the object of her worries. "Has there been talk among the warriors?"

Sif felt blood rush to her face, not for her own part, but because there was little good news to relay. She and the Warriors Three kept silence for Thor's sake and urged his friends to do the same, but others were not so discreet.

_"Well, Loki never was much use to Asgard."_

_"Aye, I can't say I'm surprised. I always suspected it was Loki behind everything."_

_"Has it been guessed what the Allfather will order for him?"_

_"Maybe send him back to wastes of Jotunheim where he belongs."_

Even then, Sif's main concern was always for Thor and the distress he would feel at such words. No thought for Loki being wrongly accused of holding all the blame, even though she knew he did not. There was plenty to be shared, including a portion that must rest on the hands of Sif. She'd played fast and loose with notions of honor with Loki was concerned, and excused herself far too long.

"There has been talk, too much by some and not enough by others," she admitted to Sigyn. "I've feared I would miss the chance to speak for Thor, but when the time comes, if it's allowed, I'll speak also for Loki. He doesn't bear all responsibility for these events." She looked the other woman in the eye, and addressed other events long past. "I should have apologized to you a long time ago. I treated you ill many times."

Sigyn's kindness didn't extend to offering false reassurances. "It wasn't only love of learning that made me his friend. We were both such strangers to our own kin." She shook her head. "Still, I forgive. I know you had your own troubles. We were children."

Sif gave her a weak smile. "Sometimes I feel that perhaps we still are."

"The men of our acquaintance surely are." Pronounced in an utterly-bland voice, it nonetheless made Sif laugh. She felt a pang at the same time. _We both of us were called disgraces and unmaidenly at one time or another. We should have been friends. _Perhaps it was too late for true intimacy, but at least she could vow not to keep silent in the face of slander.

"If you mean to stay, shall I bring you some breakfast?" Sigyn offered.

"Don't be absurd. You're a healer, not a serving girl." Sif wondered how ragged she must be run, caring for both sons of Odin with the queen breathing down her neck. "I'll get out of your way." She looked over her shoulder from the doorway. "Send for me if I can be any help to you." She wasn't quite sure what, if anything, she could do at this point, but at least the offer could stand.

As they departed, Sif for the training grounds and Sigyn for the healing rooms, a messenger came from the great hall in search of Sif. "The Allfather orders you to appear before him and make a report."

Sif couldn't restrain herself from looking back, and met Sigyn's eyes. The healer went a little pale, but Sif nodded. "At once. He'll have nothing but the truth from me."

Sigyn had to be as nervous as Sif now felt, but she smiled.

* * *

Thor nearly rebelled (again) when the Allfather sent for Loki. The angry protests were not unlike him, but his pleas had the effect of jolting Loki out of his own anxiety. Frigga was surprised (but privately relieved) that her youngest actually made an effort to be reassuring. "I don't think I'm really for the axe. He hasn't even convened a Thing."

"Even so, you shouldn't be the only one charged," Thor insisted, trying to brush off Eir's restraining hands. "I want to go with you!"

"Do you think I'm incapable of functioning without you to hold my hand? When the hell did you become so fretful?" Loki demanded.

"Shortly after I came back to find you a day away from death!" Thor shot back.

Frigga couldn't help the way she flinched, and both of them looked at her, then looked down. Loki muttered, "Well, I'm fine now. You're the one taking forever and a day to heal. And I'm capable of accounting for myself without anyone's help. Perhaps I've a few things to ask him," he added darkly. He gave Thor and Frigga a mock-cheerful shrug. "What's the worst that's to happen?"

Thor sighed heavily and sat back down on his bed, giving over the battle. "That we're parted again without a chance to say goodbye," he said, not looking at any of them.

Frigga managed not to turn her head, but marked Loki's reaction from the corner of her eye. His old guard was falling firmly back into place, but she saw the bewilderment he tried to hide. _Oh dearest, is it such a shock to know your brother loves you? Or just that he admits it? _Nor could she insist on accompanying him herself without making him lose face. Odin hadn't sent for her either, and this interview was likely to be hard enough on their pride.

So she forced herself to stay where she was as Loki departed the healing rooms, to give him only a calm nod when he looked back. In her heart, she wanted hurl herself after him and crush him into her arms. To throw herself at Odin's feet and beg, _Don't take him from me now. _

Eir looked from her to Thor after the door closed behind Loki, and quietly left the room. And it was her eldest, who'd once been so mortified by her affection, who came to her side and put his arms around her. He didn't even cringe when she embraced him back.

"Forgive me, Mother," he whispered into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything."

_To be continued..._

**_Coming next weekend: _**_Odin and Loki finally have that confrontation. Through Odin's POV, we see into his relationship with his adopted son - and his memories of his own father._

**Please don't forget to review!**


	10. Chapter 9

_**Author's Notes:**__ My birthday is this weekend, so here's my Hobbit-present to everyone - an early(ish) update! You know what human present I want: REVIEWS! Because here it is at last, the full confrontation between Odin and Loki that was cut off in the movie by the Odinsleep! No health barriers this time - and I rewrote it about fifty times, so please give me your thoughts!_

**Chapter Nine**

Odin watched Loki's journey from the healing rooms to the great hall. For a walk of but a few minutes, it looked like a long trip from Loki's view, and felt no less so to Odin as observer. He couldn't recall a time before that he'd turned his gaze from the throne to either of his sons for more than a brief glance. Had not a king many calls for his attention?

He knew what Frigga would say to that.

_I have never disclaimed a father's love for either of my sons. _

_"To not disclaim it is not the same as affirming it." _That was what she would say, anyway.

How was it that Odin Borson could predict without doubt what his queen would say, even what she would feel, and yet feel such a stranger to the boy approaching the great hall doors? He had entirely misjudged Thor's readiness for the kingship... and at the same time, paid very little thought to Loki's. As a result of both, Asgard had gone ungoverned for four days during a crisis.

_My sons are grown men. It was they who failed and forgot all I taught them. I was too soft with both of them._

_And that is Bor talking._

Bor, who had indeed disclaimed fatherly love. "_Kings do not love and cannot love,_" he had told his sons. _"Judge those around you by their worthiness, not their hearts, and disclaim your own._"

Odin had privately disagreed after growing up a stranger to his brothers. If either of them had measured anything with their hearts, they had never shown a sign of it. Bor had cautiously approved his marriage to Frigga, never guessing that it had been ruled by the heart as much as by her nobility and connections. And when the throne had fallen to Odin with both Vili and Ve dead childless, Odin had supposed that to mean his notions were correct, and love did have a place upon the throne.

Now he wondered if Bor's notion had been to avoid this irksome, unending dilemma: where did the father end and the king begin? How was one to rule and also love, particularly when it came to one's children?

Loki was, after all, not truly his child - _damn that thought and curse the cold place it comes from! _

_He betrayed me and all of this realm. _

_"I could've done it, Father! I could've done it for you, for all of us!_" So Loki hadn't intended it as treason. At least not towards his father.

"_He's poisoned by envy of Thor," _some of the councilors had insisted as Odin collected reports of what had passed during the Odinsleep. _"All this was because he coveted the throne for himself! He would have usurped it some other way if this plan had failed._"

The counter to that had come from Sif, of all people. Her disdain for Loki was well-known; Bragi had been astonished by her testimony. "_When he was nearest to death, Loki said to Thor that he didn't want the throne, Allfather. I believe him."_

What was he to make of that? That even without having known his origins, Loki was consumed with hatred for Thor? That didn't seem to be what Sif had been implying - and if she thought so, she would surely not have balked at saying it. The Warriors Three had also borne witness to that conversation, what had very nearly become Loki's deathbed. Had they not attested to it, he might have doubted Frigga's interpretation. None would deny Thor's fondness for Loki, but Loki had not dropped his reserve around Thor in many years.

Not until he believed he was dying. But then... _"Loki was terrified of him._"

That part Odin could not disclaim, however he tried.

_"When I am king, Father, I'll defeat the Jotunn monsters just as you did! And I'll hunt them down and slay them all!_"

_"Only one of you can be king._"

He'd been primarily concerned with Thor not taking the throne for granted at such a young age. With reminding Thor that worthiness for the throne must be earned. He'd spared no thought for his heir's ill regard for the Jotnar, nor how Loki might be affected by that attitude.

And now, with his origins revealed, Loki had still called them monsters and tried to slay Laufey with Gungnir himself. _"We let him be taught disgust for his birth race and never spoke a word against it._"

"_I could've done it! For you!_"

Had it never occurred to Loki that such an end would not please the Allfather? It seemed not. Odin rallied his forces as the doors opened.

His youngest too had rallied himself, and it was a proud prince who came before Hliðskjálf. Odin considered him, then motioned to the scribes. "Leave us." To the guards, he added, "All of you. We're not to be disturbed." This conversation would be difficult enough without an audience. Once the doors had closed again, he ordered Loki, "Come here."

Loki had always comported himself well before the throne. Better than Thor in some respects. Thor had more than his share of royal pride, but sometimes his confidence gave way to swagger which, he was still too young to realize, didn't go over well with most of his elders. Loki often exceeded him in formal dignity. Odin had imagined him complementing the king as first ambassador or other affairs of state.

Was that future still a possibility?

He studied Loki in silence through his own eye and the longer gaze of Hliðskjálf. There was a mild cosmetic glamor over the boy's face, the product of his own sorcery. Without preamble, Odin raised a hand and brushed it away. Loki flinched, his anxiety and lack of sleep now far more evident in red-rimmed eyes and hollowed cheeks. He might be healed from poisoning and the wounds of battle, but not from distress.

_Where does the king end and the father begin? _

_"_Are you afraid?"

"No." He was a talented liar. Some of the councilors had suggested that recommended him more for the succession, and they'd only been half-joking. Even Odin couldn't always detect it; Frigga had once suggested that the best way was to predict beforehand how Loki would likely respond to a direct question, rather than trust the response alone.

If Odin hadn't already known the answer to his question, he might have believed Loki's reply. He took a deep breath. _Let us forth into battle, Odin and Odinson. Only with each other, armed only with words_.

"The matters between the kings of Asgard and Jotunheim have been settled. But the Jotnar Volur have made a great complaint against Asgard."

There was not even a change in Loki's breathing. "What say these witches?"

"Shall I number their grievances in order from longest past first or most recent?" That startled Loki, so Odin decided to begin at the beginning. "It is as well my sons should know the history there. After we repelled the Jotnar back into their own world, we laid siege to them at their strongholds. Your brother was born in the lull just before the final assaults were to begin. My father, Bor, fell to a Jotunn curse on our approach to Utgard. He was still in the prime of his life, and imagined we might find some means of halting it. It was far more rapid than yours, and I failed to find a sorcerer skilled enough to save him. In the end, he cursed me, believing I had betrayed him in order to seize the throne, and warned that the wheel will turn again."

Loki maintained his stiff attention at the throne's foot. "And now you fear the wheel does turn again with a traitorous son." He gave Odin what might be deemed an unconcerned smile. "Why should that trouble you, Allfather? I am but a Jotunn pretender, no danger to you. No threat to the succession."

"The line of succession fell to you when Thor was taken. Even when it was known you were the blood of Laufey, Asgard's most powerful ministers backed your claim as son of Odin."

"And that was not an outcome you ever anticipated, was it?" Loki leaned forward, eyes flashing as he abandoned his feigned indifference. "You took me for a purpose. What was it?"

Odin hesitated.

"TELL ME!" It was not that roar of outrage and challenge that Thor made when he'd not got his way or received some slight. It was... anguish.

In all the links for this chain of wrongs, Odin could barely discern where to start, but supposed it was time to face all the truths. So he forced himself to speak. "I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day. Bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace." He gestured with Gungnir, and upon a small central table now rested the Casket of Ancient Winters.

He intended it to demonstrate Loki's birthright. But Loki turned so white that for a moment, Odin feared he would collapse again. "No," he whispered. His affected pose vanished, and it was just a boy, angry, confused, and revolted and above all, terrified. Breathing faster and faster, he hissed, "So I am nothing more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you have use of me!"

"Why do you twist my words?" Odin demanded.

"Why didn't you tell me what I was from the beginning?"

"Because I wanted to protect you from the truth!"

"Yes, because I'm the monster parents tell their children about at night," Loki snarled. "And now the secret's out and there's no need to pretend, is there!? You can be rid of my disgrace and set up another puppet like Frey - "

"LOKI!" he bellowed, but Loki wasn't finished.

"Deny it, _Allfather. _Deny that's the reason you always favored Thor, why you spoke always of both of us being born to kingship but never, _never _of the possibility that I might succeed you! You'd never have a frost giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

Odin stormed down the dais. "You disqualified _yourself_ from the throne, Loki Odinson! Asgard had no use for a king who would not stand up for himself, nor speak his mind, and who could not be trusted to keep faith with anyone!"

"Was it some other king who told us deceit was a legitimate tool of statecraft?"

"Statecraft and family are not one and the same."

"Odd, I never noticed a difference!"

"I will NOT have this from you!" He had Loki by the front of his tunic before he returned to himself. What by the Norns was the boy trying to accomplish? Would it appease some perverse side of his nature to drive Odin to confirm his claims? Why else was he trying so damned hard to provoke him?

He remembered then, a similar stance between two furious, frustrated boys in the healing room, and Thor's bellowed question. With a sigh, he released Loki, and caught a flash of what might have been disappointment. "What is it that you want now?"

He marked carefully the way Loki's gaze darted about. Bitter towards Odin, but the fear was directed at the Casket. An inkling of suspicion formed in Odin's mind, and he wondered if Loki could possibly be thinking... Loki's answer, low and resigned, was terrible confirmation: "If I truly have any choice in the matter, then let me choose death."

Time passed differently in the Odinsleep. It felt as though centuries had passed since that moment in the Observatory, when he had realized just how ill-fit Thor was for the duties of kingship. And at the same time, it seemed like only an instant had gone by. Thor's shouted insults, his roared contempt had smashed into his father, and cracked open something deep within Odin's soul.

Strange how very quietly Loki had struck open that same wound again. It took painful moments to draw breath for the next question. "Death over what?"

What was it that he thought Odin intended now? What was it he feared so desperately?

Judging by the way he met Odin's eyes in surprise, to Loki it was self-evident. Was the twisting of words not merely a tool for manipulation, then, but rather the genuine way Loki viewed the world? _And the way he views his father? _Loki swallowed, then visibly steeled himself again and glanced at the Casket. "Laufey."

_Oh, gods. _It was all Odin could do not to seize the boy and shake him. It could not be that. Surely he was dissembling, making yet another misdirection. Rage at the thought of this being yet another game warred with horror at the possibility that it was not. How was it to be tested? What word from this little liesmith was to be trusted?

He grabbed Loki's arm and propelled him back to the foot of the throne. "I will have the truth from you," he muttered, ignoring the startled yelp. By the time Loki regained his balance, Gungnir was pointed at him. Because he was seldom seen on the practice fields or in the barracks, it tended to surprise the youths of Asgard to be reminded just how fast Odin Allfather could move.

To use Gungnir's power in this way was tremendously wasteful, especially for a king not long emerged from the Odinsleep. But he cared not. This was one moment where he would know whether the silver tongue still spun falsehood, and whether its keeper sought to toy with him. Loki gasped as the spell hit him. It did him no harm, although Frigga would still give Odin a tongue-lashing if she found out.

"Answer me again," Odin growled. "What fate do you believe I intend for you now?"

Perhaps a practiced deceiver could feign shock and confusion, but no words could pass his lips at this moment that were untrue. So Loki answered, sounding dazed. "Jotunheim. To send me back to the frost giants."

Odin lowered Gungnir slowly, and amid the sinking of his heart, the rage still simmering with no fuel to burn, it occurred to him how desperately he had desired to prove this false. _What manner of accursed fool am I, that all this should come about and you have so little faith in me? _

He was silent for so long, digesting this truth and all its implications, that Loki dared to speak again. "Have they not demanded it?"

Odin inhaled deeply and set the spear aside. "Their laws give them no grounds to make such a demand," he said carefully. Loki dropped his eyes, and Odin concluded with the intensity of any blood oath. "And even if it were otherwise, I would not allow it."

Loki blinked and looked up. "Why?"

"Because you are _mine_." Odin growled out the words he'd had to restrain before the ambassadors. "Whatever test of strength was intended in that temple, I found an innocent child left alone and suffering, hours from death. Let their excuses be damned; no fit father abandons an infant."

He stepped down from the throne and paced away, restless with frustration and rage. Loki stared after him as he went on. "Yes, once I thought to bring about an alliance with Jotunheim through you. Those plans no longer matter, for you weren't yet walking before I knew the contempt between our kingdoms would live still for generations. I hid your origins to protect you from that bitterness, in the hope you would be safer as a child of Asgard. And happier."

Loki swallowed convulsively and turned away, but now he moved closer to the Casket, glaring at it. "Are you truly telling me you never looked at me and saw _him_?"

Odin opened his mouth to give an automatic denial, but caught himself. _"Do you truly believe that, Odin Borson? Do you truly expect him to believe that?" _Wearily, he made himself confess. "No." He saw Loki flinch, and chose his next words carefully. "Of course, I wondered at the influence of your blood at times. In particular, your power. Little is known about the native magic of the Jotnar, and what was known has been forgotten, yet your sorcery rivals that of elves. Laufey was an honorable enemy."

"Aren't honor and magic mutually exclusive?" Loki muttered.

"I never said that."

Loki spun back towards him. "But never questioned Thor when _he_ did! Why should I have thought you believed differently?"

There was Frigga in the back of his mind again. _"Why should they believe a word you taught them when you don't abide by it yourself?!"_

_"_If I truly thought it an evil, I would not have permitted it at all," he hedged. Loki shot him a _look _that was so very Frigga that any casual witness would have insisted he was her blood son. _Yet you who wield lies with such practice complain that I lied to you? _ "Why did you always deny any desire for the throne if it was untrue?"

Loki scowled at his feet. "It wasn't."

"Then why do you complain of Thor's succession?!"

"Was succession the only means by which I could not be _less _than him?!" Loki snapped. "You harped so on worthiness, but only of the throne of Asgard! What the hell is left for me? What was ever left for the one who was not to be king?"

Odin was seized by the renewed desire to shake him. "We _all_ serve the throne of Asgard, from the king to the poorest servant. That you couldn't both occupy it did not mean only one was ever worthy." He shook his head at the sullen boy. "You have many gifts, Loki, and many skills. I had little doubt you would accomplish great things for this realm, and perhaps even others."

His youngest shifted on his feet, dropping the childish scowl, but it was clear he did not find such words encouraging. Rather, Odin was troubled by the sudden weariness he showed. "Then why did you not tell me so?"

Odin could not meet his eyes then. _Because I thought you knew. "_I was short-sighted." He heard Loki's breath catch. "Maintaining the peace and the future of the Nine Realms is the king's first duty. I assumed if both of you grew to be good men, that one could assume the throne and the rest would follow. Thor knew what he was capable of; I assumed you did as well." He sighed and sat down again, leaning forward. He dared not let any doubt creep into his voice with this. "When I realized after Jotunheim that I'd been wrong about Thor's readiness, I fully intended that you would succeed me." At last, a look from Loki that was not without hope. "My regrets were that I had so poorly judged my eldest, and that my youngest might still be reluctant."

"Asgard won't have a frost giant. They never would."

"Have you forgotten that Tyr and Ullr had Gungnir in your hands the moment you were on your feet again?"

"Yes, and the rest of them circled like a pack of wolves! Asgard has only one gauge of worthiness - the fist and the sword and Thor's damned hammer!"

"You scorn it now, but it wasn't peace you sought in Jotunheim, it was blood!" Odin retorted. "You conducted yourself no better than he did!"

"So you'd see Laufey meant nothing to me!" Loki exploded. He turned his rage from Odin towards the Casket, as if he had a mind to smash the thing. Finally, he turned away from it again and finished miserably, "So they'd all know it didn't matter." This new fit of temper faded as quickly as it had come, and now he was the one pacing absently around the room. "You'll have to return Thor to succession. They won't have me now, and you can't be without an heir."

Odin considered him. Did he dare consider encouraging that Loki could speak of it so objectively? "I'll do so when and if he shows himself worthy again. But what of Loki? What do _you_ want?"

Loki frowned at him, then at the floor, then at the Casket. Finally his lips quirked, and he laughed softly, although there was little humor in it. "Twice now in a week I've been asked that. It's a novel sensation."

"You thought Thor unfit and didn't seek the throne yourself - then what _do_ you want?!" Odin demanded in exasperation. "You're neither for the axe nor for the frost giants." Loki winced. "You are still to answer for your treason, as Thor must for his own, but if you want to be heard, then speak. If I should grant you a course, what would you choose? Alfheim? Vanaheim? Your name has praise of its own with Frey and Freyja."

Loki tilted his head, now thoughtful. Odin decided he could not in good conscience keep silent on one rather important fact. "Although you should know that those realms now enjoy far better relations with Jotunheim, and Frey is far more inclined to think generously of Laufey's treatment of you."

"He thinks generously of them all right," Loki scoffed. "He admires that Jotunn witch."

"Gerd Gymirsdottir saved your life to no advantage of her own," Odin said sharply. "I was short-sighted before, but that shall change now. Asgard is in her debt, as you are, and I fully intend those debts shall be honored." Granted, she was no more inclined to think generously of Asgard than Loki was of her, but Loki didn't need to know that. There was quite enough mutual antagonism to go around.

"I want nothing of them," Loki ground out through clenched teeth. "She said I owe her nothing, and even if she hadn't, damn their favors. They can take it out of my hide for all I care."

Odin shook his head. "And therein lies their grievance, though it falls first upon myself." He raised his eyebrows. "You leave few options for yourself or for me, Loki. Thor will return to Midgard when he is finished healing. I'm well aware of your wish not to be tied to him," he added dryly. Loki blinked, then flushed. "But if you mean also to flee these diplomatic matters _and _your place in them, you close every remaining door."

Short of turning Gungnir on him again, Odin supposed he had no way of being certain whether Loki was feigning his confusion. He certainly hadn't betrayed bewilderment like this in a very long time. _For one who so loves to test his mind, am I to believe he's never been bewildered? He is mine, and I would have warred first rather than surrender him if Laufey had pressed it. How is it I know him so little? _As if to confirm how little Odin understood, Loki suddenly approached the Casket.

Odin schooled his face to a mask of neutrality and dared to predict... and even hope. This time, at long last, he was right. Loki put a hand to its surface, and the Jotnar magic overwhelmed the glamor that had been as a skin to him all his life. As his features shifted in appearance, he shivered, and Odin doubted it was due to the Casket being physically cold.

Where did the king end and the father begin? How was he to both amend his own wrongs and punish Loki's? Would it be possible to do either and still salvage his family?

Returning to the throne, Odin cast his gaze out to the healing room. Thor was resisting Eir's efforts to make him rest, and Frigga was no less fretful. They would be on Loki the moment he returned.

"Eir informed me you're well enough to be released from her care," he said. "I have little choice but to banish you for your crimes, but I will allow you to bid farewell to your mother and Thor."

Loki nodded, lowering his hand from the Casket and watching his skin return to the coloring of the Aesir. "Thank you."

"When Thor is released from the healing rooms, you will both leave Asgard. Until then, return to your quarters and consider your decision." He took Gungnir in hand again and sent the Casket back to the vault. "I will put the choice to you then: Midgard with Thor or one of the other realms alone. Think well on it, Loki Odinson."

Loki gazed at the now-empty table. "For how long?"

"Until you're worthy to return."

_To be continued..._

**_Coming next weekend: _**_Thor finishes the road to recovery from his injuries, and everyone begins the road to recovery from the crisis. Loki has an important decision to make, and Frigga and Thor face painful choices of their own._

_**Endnote:**__ I figure the quickest question most readers will have is "Why the hell didn't either of them APOLOGIZE?!" Don't get me wrong - a part of me wanted a big emotional reconciliation and pleas for forgiveness all around, but I just didn't see it as being in character for either Odin or Loki. So I fear this was as close as Odin could bring himself to come, even though he does recognize in his heart that he made some massive blunders, and that he does love both his sons. Men are so damn frustrating. Space Vikings... more so._

**PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! IT ARE MY BIRFDAY! **_(Well, okay, Sunday is.) _


	11. Chapter 10

_**Author's Notes: **__Many thanks to everyone for all the reviews and birthday wishes! Such an incredible response to last chapter, I'm so glad everyone enjoyed it - frustrating as I know it is when our most stubborn heroes interact!_

**Chapter Ten**

Let it never be said that the Allfather lacked capacity for mercy. At least as far as he'd allowed Loki to return to his quarters rather than the healing rooms, where Frigga and Thor would be waiting to pounce. Loki stubbornly turned away from his bedchamber and made instead for his study with its walls of books. Granted, his library had spilled out of the study long ago, and its shelves now formed the walls of his sitting room and half of his bedchamber. If he kept accumulating them at the same rate, he'd run out of wall space in the next fifty years – and as a son of Odin, his quarters were quite expansive.

He stumbled over the floor and muttered a curse, waving a hand at the hearth (the only non-book occupied expanse of study wall), only for the fire to sputter and fail to light. He cursed more loudly and stalked towards it, but tripped again and wound up on his knees, shivering, his arms wrapped around his chest. He should not have been capable of shivering anymore.

By fumbling magically and manually, he got the hearth blazing, and wound up slumped upon the carpet, as close as he could be to the fire without sitting in it. He let his mind drift and woke from a doze to find himself half-baked on one side, so he switched direction, and the return of humor brought him out of the stupor. _I'm acting like one of Freyja's cats! _

Laughing quietly, he pulled himself upright and hauled a chair closer, but found that he couldn't concentrate on a book and kept staring into the flames as if hypnotized.

_Freyja..._ There was an idea, perhaps a palatable one. The queen of Vanaheim had never been less than welcoming to him on his visits. Then again, she was never less than welcoming to any Aesir in her halls. He wrinkled his nose to consider whether that would change as word spread of his bloodline, but... in absolute candor, he doubted it. At least she had not praised Thor to the skies while absently adding "and his brother" when she spoke of her neighbor realm. Rather, she was sweetly indulgent of Thor's boisterous ways, reminding them both of Frigga when they'd been little, and had been no less indulgent of Loki's curiosity.

On one of their most recent long trips, after a day of hunting and training with Vanir warriors, Thor and the Warriors Three had gone off to take a meal with Hogun's kin. Freyja had informed Loki he was invited to meet with some of the most powerful magi in her service. It had been a novel experience, to see the looks of shock and genuine envy shot at him by some of the Vanir youths, male and female. Sorcery was more widely used by both genders there, which might explain why out of all Thor's cronies, Hogun insulted him the least. (Then again, Hogun talked the least on any subject, so it might not be deemed proof.)

Granted, the Vanir use of magic bent more towards scrying and seeing of future and past than practical application. Their lore masters were the greatest in the Nine Realms, and even restless Thor was enthralled by the great tales recited and sung by the Vanir skalds.

Loki had enjoyed his times there. And yet... to go without Thor? Without magic? Stripped of power and rank and station and all the realms knowing it? He felt blood rush to his face just at the thought of the eyes on him, the mockery and silent scorn even if the Vanir were generally more subtle in their jeers.

_How is it that I can blush at all? My face is only a glamor. _Maybe it was the same reason he could shiver with cold when his body ought to survive extremes that would kill even an Aesir. He thumped his head back against the cushions of his chair. It seemed Loki the Trickster had all the shortcomings of both his blood race and his adoptive race, and none of the advantages of either.

Alfheim? Had its king not been so embroiled in this recent debacle, Loki would have liked that prospect a great deal. The light elves were the greatest magicians in the known universe, and Loki had never ended one of his visits to Frey's realms without wishing it had been longer. Thor, by contrast, tended to find the place boring. The elves' power and security were unchallenged, and many of their weapons crafts and strategies were still used by the other realms including Asgard, but little had been seen of their capabilities since before Bor's day.

There was much speculation about why the elves would tolerate rule by an outsider, but Loki, like most, was of the firm belief that if they had an objection to Frey, then Frey would not be ruling. The light elves had mediated disputes within and between most other realms, and it was the only place outside of Jotunheim that Loki had ever encountered Jotnar. Not that they had ever had much to say to each other beyond what the barest diplomatic and mutual guest-courtesies required. The elves themselves were aloof and often downright condescending - but that didn't bother Loki as much as it did Thor so long he saw that everyone got the same treatment. (After all, Aesir and Vanir elders were the same.)

But now it seemed Frey was pushing ahead towards normalizing relations between Jotunheim and the other realms. Even amid the turmoil, Loki had seen him in earnest conversation with that Jotunn volva. The thought of encountering her again triggered some combination of nausea and fury.

_I owe you nothing, bitch, _he wanted to spit, imagining her accusing red eyes on him. _Take your righteous principles and your grudging mercy back to the ice caves or wherever the giants practice their facsimile of magic._

He squirmed in his chair, glaring at the fire and wishing to burn away the strange inkling of shame within him, as though it were Frigga he had cursed and denounced.

A knock at the door made him jump nearly out of the chair, and the small seeing mirror he'd put at the door revealed Frigga, as though he'd summoned her with his disquiet. He sighed. It had been a few hours since his audience with Odin had ended; she'd restrained herself quite admirably. He should not wound her with a denial.

So he straightened and unlocked the door with a gesture. "Come in, Mother."

Frigga took in his appearance, her own expression schooled to hide her distress. She was seldom so guarded with him in private. _Already she distances herself from me. There's no need to pretend anymore. _Well, he'd learned as much about dignity from her as from Odin; he might as well apply it. "The Allfather has informed me of my punish - "

She moved so fast he didn't have time to brace himself. Her arms were around his neck and she was holding him so tight it nearly knocked the wind from him. "I would never have forgiven him if he'd turned you out without letting me see you!" she breathed. "I know you'll return to us."

He embraced her in return automatically. "It's indefinite - "

She pulled back and glared at him, squeezing his shoulders. "It is nothing of the kind. We are your family, Loki Odinson, and we will never stop loving you as ours." Putting a hand to his cheek, she whispered, "Until you and your brother have _both _come home, I and your father will be bereft."

He let her cling to him. If it would make her feel better, he supposed he owed it to her. She'd stayed even as he withered under the Jotnar poison, when she should have been with the king or his council.

"I don't understand," he admitted.

"Which part?"

"Any of it." She frowned, giving him that skeptical look that said she wasn't sure if he was dissembling or not. He wasn't. He groped around for the words to properly explain it, and finally blurted out, "How could you tolerate it, knowing what I was? Especially now that all the realms know. How can you speak of caring for a frost giant?"

She let go of him and stepped back, stunned, and... crushed? By the Norns, he hadn't _meant_ to wound her, only show how pointless it was to dwell on him. She could clear her conscience and the sense of motherly obligation - and the shame he'd brought down on her and her family. Perhaps in that, he might manage some sort of equilibrium with his upbringing, a diplomatic truce of sorts, and if he ever was permitted to set foot in Asgard again, it would not hurt so much.

But he couldn't even manage to initiate that properly; Frigga was closer to tears than he'd seen her in a long time. "Loki," she breathed. "If I could go back to your infancy and tell you the truth from the beginning, I'd give my life."

Now his throat was so tight he could barely breathe, his eyes stinging. "Why?!" he rasped.

She was so frustrated she started to pace, rubbing her eyes. The angrier Frigga became, the more still and calm she appeared - normally. Now her face was lined with exhaustion, and she was actually trembling. He cursed himself, even though he still wasn't sure how he was managing to hurt her.

"Because your father and I wronged you unforgivably with our silence - listen to me!" She grabbed his hands when he made to look away, and her desperation was so clear that it jolted the skepticism from his head. "I beg you." He stared in disbelief, heart in his throat. "Loki, if you believe no word I've ever said to you before and none after tonight, I beg you with all my heart, hear this, for I swear on my life it's true: your bloodline is no shame to your family or to you, and we wronged you by not saying so every day of your life!"

His mind reeled. He was vaguely aware of wetness on his own face to match hers, but his head was spinning with too much confusion to even muster real embarrassment. _How am I to believe that? _he thought, feeling dull and sluggish. She truly wanted him to do so; it was all too much, too frantic and desperate to be any new falsehood or excuse. _But how am I to accept that _without _disbelieving all that has ever come before?!_ Accept that Frigga and Odin were hypocrites? Was that what she meant to confess? Would Odin approve if he knew of this declaration?

_And if it really is true... then what am I? _

_And what are they?_

Normally Loki would be drawn to confusing questions and vague, elusive puzzles like a hound to a scent. But this was a frightening, contorted maelstrom, some fractured reshaping of reality, and he wanted to flee from it.

"Where should I go?" he asked her at last. She blinked. "Did he not tell you his decision?"

Frigga shook her head. "He said that it is your choice alone whether to discuss it with any of us. I would like it if you'd tell me," she added. That prodded a little ease back into him, as if perhaps he might find himself physically capable of smiling again. That part was definitely dissembling; she knew quite well what she wanted and was not above wheedling at him.

Perhaps this matter, the practical part of where he should best serve his exile, might be an easier thing to talk about and think about than the rest. He urged her to the comfortable chair and called another for himself, sitting down. She seemed relieved in her own right to be distracted.

"I am to be banished for my treason, but he offers me a choice of where." It was strange to realize that not only had Thor _not_ been given such a choice before, but apparently that would not change now. "If I go to Vanaheim or Alfheim, he expects there will be... diplomacy involved. With the frost giants." He managed to keep revulsion from his voice. "If Midgard, I'd be with Thor." _Trailing along at his heels just like always. _That thought felt only a little less unpleasant, or perhaps just a different kind of unpleasant.

Frigga leaned against one arm of her chair, gaze drifting from him to the fire and back again as she mulled it over. "You don't think you might enjoy Nidavellir?"

He burst out laughing. He couldn't help it, even though he knew that's why she'd said it. Devious of her; she grinned wickedly. He was not for the axe in Asgard and had no intention of courting it anywhere else. The dwarves would certainly not welcome him even if he was stripped of all power. The last time he'd been there, he'd only escaped the axe by having his mouth sewn shut. The dwarves' use of magic and their great crafts were of objective interest to him, but his meddling with them had quite probably alienated them for the rest of his life. His standing as Odin's son was the only reason the sons of Ivaldi had spared him, and neither they nor their lords would see any reason to do so a second time.

Well, still, Frigga deserved retaliation. So he pulled himself together and gave her a look of no less innocent blandness. "Well, I suppose I do still owe them proper amends for damaging Mjolnir in its making. Perhaps I should begin my reformation by going to beg their pardon." She wrinkled her nose, but also chuckled, and it was a relief to hear it. He sighed and said, "I suppose you are for Midgard."

Abandoning mirth, she asked, "Are you against it only because Thor will be there?"

"Out of my three non-fatal choices, I would say Midgard's also the most _dull_," he protested.

"You have been there the least," she pointed out. "After this past week, I would rather have both of you somewhere dull."

"Is it so that I'll shepherd Thor or Thor will shepherd me?" he grumbled before he could check himself.

"Both," Frigga replied curtly, refusing to be baited. "I like neither of you sent out into the realms alone, especially in mortal form." She took in his sour expression and sighed. "But even if you both went to Midgard, you know you and Thor need be joined at the hip. It's not the largest realm, but broad enough for you to explore for some years."

"Thor will want me to stay with him."

"And you have the right to refuse." She lifted her chin at his startled expression. "You both are stripped of rank and authority in exile. Thor cannot command you, and will not impose himself if you wish to separate."

"Since when?"

Her eyes went right through him. "His thinking has changed on many subjects, on you most of all, Loki. And yes, he still loves you. You know it." Frigga shook her head and rose to her feet. Loki echoed her automatically. "Eir anticipates he'll be fully healed by tomorrow. I know I can't tell you what to choose, or what the outcome will be. Try to rest tonight." She kissed his forehead, then left him alone to his thoughts.

* * *

_Will he ever forgive me? _Thor pretended to sleep for as long as it took to get Eir and Sigyn to stop hovering, then stared into the darkness of the healing room, fighting despair. Even after they'd talked - and fought - the ice of Jotunheim seemed to still creep between him and his brother, and if they were not exiled to Midgard together, how long would it be before he saw Loki again?

How long until he could put things right?

_I never meant to wrong you. _When Loki had finally spoken, it was like a dam broke, and Thor could see these were words he'd wished to say for a long time. A part of him still bridled, wanted to indignantly protest that Loki had hidden all this and was far too practiced at deception for Thor to have seen his heart.

_But did I have to see it to know that it was wrong to belittle him? To think that perhaps I should ask his opinion from time to time and actually hear the answer? To not take him for granted?_

Thor thought he could be sure never to take Loki's presence for granted again, not after seeing him at the edge of death. But the rest... so much of his interaction with his brother was born of habit, habits so old he could no longer place their origins. He didn't mean it to be unkind - although Loki had often borne the brunt of his moods and his temper in the past. That too he had to resolve to cease.

Perhaps, along with his place in Asgard, the succession, and Mjolnir, he would have to prove himself worthy of being Loki's brother again.

_Well, if I must assign each of these tasks a priority, I know which will come first. _That thought made him smile, if a little sadly.

Soft footsteps reached his ears, and he quickly closed his eyes again, then recognized the whisper of silk skirts and the faint scent of apple blossoms. Of course, Frigga knew he was not asleep. "I thought you agreed to rest tonight."

"Odd, I thought you did as well," he replied lightly, and opened his eyes. He could see at once she'd been crying. "How is he?" he asked.

"Well enough, I suppose." Frigga sat down beside his bed and gave him a light shove when he would have sat up. With her restraining hand came a stern look. "I cannot tell you what he said, dearest. Regaining your brother's trust will be hard enough without breaking his confidence."

"I understand," Thor sighed. "Will he... may I see him before I depart Asgard again?" Frigga nodded. "Do you know what punishment the Allfather has decreed for him?"

"Yes, but... again, it is not for me to say. I think he'll tell you himself tomorrow."

"It should not be worse than what was imposed on me. My crime was greater."

Frigga patted his hand. "We're all responsible for these sorry days, Thor. Including your father and myself, and your father is aware of that. He's granted Loki some mercy for it, but understand this: it falls to us now to let your brother mark his own path, if that's what he wants. We kept the truth from him, molded him to our purpose, and it served him ill." He saw her catch herself, and cringed as his mind reluctantly filled in what she didn't wish to say: _And mocked and bullied him for what choices he did make. _"Your father will seek peace with Jotunheim, but Loki is not ready to be part of that."

"_I _am," Thor vowed. "When he deems me worthy again. I owe nothing less to them - and to him."Her eyes brimmed, but she smiled. He put his hand over hers. "I don't know how much longer I'll be in Midgard, but I know I have much left to learn. I promise I'll try to make you proud."

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You already have, my son."

* * *

When Eir released him on the morrow, he thanked her gravely, and asked to see Lady Sigyn. "I wished to thank you also, my lady. Not merely for your service as a healer to me, but my brother. I know it was not only duty."

Sigyn smiled. "My prince is gracious." Casting a quick look to ensure they were out of earshot, she told him, "And all Asgard knows it was not duty that drove you to return to Jotunheim."

"Do many understand?" he mused. Or had his people thought Loki no longer worth the risk to save once it was learned he was not Aesir?

"Perhaps not enough," she admitted. "But even those who don't must respect such courage. As do I."

Thor felt a rush of warmth at that. Sigyn had never had much interest in him or his circle of friends - not that their behavior had merited much appreciation, but as swaggering youths, her lack of admiration had miffed them. If he had earned it now, then perhaps there were others whose respect he could recover. "I must bid you farewell and return to Midgard. I don't know when I'll have leave to return, but it eases my mind to know you and Lady Eir have charge of these healing halls."

"Safe journey, my lord," she said, as he kissed her hand. Then she raised an eyebrow. "But perhaps you will not be absent as long as you think." With that cryptic remark and a parting smile, she returned to the healing room.

He encountered Sif and the Warriors Three lying in wait outside the great hall. "So, he delays to say his goodbyes to the fair Sigyn, but not his dearest friends. I'm so wounded!" said Fandral, a hand over his heart.

"Be more wounded, my friend: Sigyn's prettier than you," Volstagg informed him. Thor guffawed, Sif rolled her eyes, Fandral sputtered, and Hogun simply ignored the others. It was almost as if nothing had changed.

"We would accompany you into exile if the Allfather would allow it. You are not the only one who owes atonement for these events," Hogun told Thor.

Thor shook his head. "But you would not have gone if I had not insisted, nor even thought of it." He gripped Hogun's arm with one hand, Sif's shoulder with another. "My mother told me what you did for her in those first hours after the Allfather fell. Believe me, it eases my mind that you will be here in Asgard."

"Is there anything you would have us do while you're gone, Thor?" asked Sif.

He considered it quickly. "Speak in favor of peace to the other warriors. I was wrong to court war with Jotunheim, and we've all been wrong to look on them as monsters. Let it be known I agree with Lord Frey and the Allfather: we must change the way we look at them. Only then will they no longer look at _us_ as the enemy."

The Warriors Three all nodded, but Sif avoided his eyes. "And Loki? You wish us to speak for him."

"I do. I know about the Jotunns at the coronation, as does the Allfather. He will decide what punishment is due, but Loki has already paid dearly for it."

"So have you," Volstagg said quietly.

Thor smiled and gave a mock-careless shrug. "Let the Allfather decide that." He clasped each of their shoulders quickly. "Farewell, my friends."

_Until we meet again. _He didn't say that. It would not do to take anything for granted, not even in the face of Frigga's belief that one day he'd be permitted to come home.

He couldn't tell by any of their faces whether they shared her hope.

_To be continued..._

**_Coming next week: _**_Both sons of Odin come before the king to answer for their actions. Decisions are left to be made, and farewells to be said in the final full chapter!_

**Please don't forget to review!**


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